


It’s Lily Dale, Sam

by pbmolecules



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Badass boys, Cas takes the lead, Charming Acres, Comedy, Dean is crushing on Cas, Domestic Fluff, Gay Sex, Janitor!Gabriel - Freeform, John was shit but he’s not in this, Kids with imaginary friends, Light-Hearted, Lily Dale, M/M, Murder Mystery, Neighborhood murders to solve, Neighborhood picnic, New house, Romance, Scooby Doo References, Silly Boys, Small Towns, Soda shop, Suburbs, Summer, Whodunnit, best milkshakes ever, counselor!sam, cozy mystery, established sabriel, glossed over shitty childhoods, neighborhood fic, no issues with sexuality, nurse!Cas, shy!Dean, so many quotes, solve a mystery, whacky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:13:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 93,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29073885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pbmolecules/pseuds/pbmolecules
Summary: Sam and Gabe just bought a new house in a quaint, small town that boasts the logo, ‘Safest Town in the USA’.  Their brothers come to visit and can’t help but notice just how peculiar the place is.  Charming Acres is...idyllic (according to Sam), Stepford (according to Gabe), strangely picturesque (according to Cas), and just fuckin’ nutballs (according to Dean).  Their picture-perfect neighbors are actually sneaking around at night, the kids have imaginary friends, and the kindly older neighbors across the street are obsessed with Christmas, even in the middle of July!  When one of the neighbors dies mysteriously, it takes more than the town’s local police to solve it.  Never fear!  Sam, Gabe, Cas, and Dean are on the case.  Oh, and the grumpy old men down the road (Bobby and Rufus) are willing to lend a hand...and an insult.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Destiel, Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Sabriel - Relationship
Comments: 142
Kudos: 45





	1. Charming Acres

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my gosh HI PEOPLE!  
> It has been almost a year since I have posted a story on AO3! 2020 was rough. But we are out the other side and I am back! 
> 
> This playful story is THICK with lines straight from 8 of my favorite quirky episodes over Supernatural’s 15 seasons. Hopefully, you will recognize them. I have pulled my favorite memorable single-episode characters and woven them together into one crazy mystery you can ride along to solve!  
> Want references? So, get this...  
> Episodes I’m referencing, characters I’m using, and fave line from that episode:  
> 3.8 - A Very Supernatural Christmas: Ed and Madge Carrigan...... “You fudging touch me again and I’ll fudging kill you!”   
> 6.9 - Clap Your Hands If You Believe: Wayne Whittaker Jr, Marion......“I feel like I got the crazy ON me!”   
> 7.5 - Shut Up, Dr. Phil: Maggie & Don Stark, Sue...... “If you’re gonna be stupid, you might as well be smart about it.”   
> 7.7 - The Mentalists: Melanie Golden, Goldy, Camille, Imelda, Jimmy Tomorrow....... “Yeah. See, there's, uh, fake whoo-whoo crap, and there's real whoo-whoo crap.”  
> 8.8 - Hunteri Heroici: Gary & Deb Frieling, Olivia, Sheila Tate, Fred Jones, Dr. Mahoney...... “You can’t tell me this place doesn’t give you the heebs and or jeebs.”   
> 11.8 - Just My Imagination: PJ & Linda Burman, Maddie & Sparkle, Zoe & Nicky, Fletcher & Weems, Sully...... “That kid’s gonna need ALL the shrinks.”  
> 11.16 - Safe House: Rufus, Bobby, Neighborhood Watch Lady, Kat & Naoki Himura.......Bobby- “Were you ever nice?” Rufus- “1985. Worst year of my life.”   
> 14.15 - Peace of Mind: Justin & Cindy Smith, Ms. Dowling, Chip & Sonny Harrington....... “If you cannot remain civil, then you will skedaddle!”   
> 

Chapter 1: Charming Acres  
  
  
Towns have personalities. Like people. Some are high maintenance and busy, always on the go. Some are old and rundown. Others are new and vibrant. Some are friendly, while others are suspicious and hard to get to know. Neighborhoods work the same way. Some are clean and formal, while others are worn and shabby. Some are rows and rows of cookie-cutter houses that all look the same, while others are varied and eclectic. And while a town or a neighborhood is merely a reflection of the people who fill it; a ‘feel’ is evident all the same.  
  
Sam Winchester was quite proud of his most recent accomplishment. He had bought a house. And while that might seem like a mere milestone to some, for Sam it was a marvel that was a long time in the process of coming to fruition.  
  
At age 26, he owned his own first home.  
  
Okay, so he had a mortgage that made him nervous when he thought about paying on it for the next thirty years, and it was just as much his husband’s as it was his, but he still felt mighty proud about it.  
  
As he stood on the front porch, smiling at the morning paper being tossed onto his walkway, coffee cup in hand, grin a mile wide, he had no idea just how peculiar his new neighborhood was. His old college friend, Garth, had told him of an amazing job opportunity in his hometown of Charming Acres, Arkansas. The move had been exactly what he and Gabe were looking for. They had both had enough of the city life in Austin, Texas, with its never-ending summer and never-ending traffic. This was their opportunity for a fresh start in a small town. They had visited the town twice before taking the big leap to uproot their lives. And now...it was home.  
  
He had described it to his brother as ‘idyllic’.  
  
Gabe had described it to his brother as ‘Stepford’.  
  
The true question was, would he become as quirky and odd as his new neighbors? Or would he bring a fresh new vibe of normalcy?  
  
Only time would tell.  
  
You might think you can judge a neighborhood by its ‘feel’. The condition of the shutters and the gauge of the people out and about are no real testament to what life looks like behind dingy or freshly installed front doors.  
  
Sam’s door was white, like the siding of his cape cod style home, built in the 80’s, like most of the homes on their street. It had a wide front porch with chunky stone columns at the front corners. His roof would need replacing within the next few years, and the hardwood floors were pretty scuffed in the main walkways. Nothing he couldn’t hide with some well-placed rugs.   
There were two bedrooms and an office, a cozy fireplace in the living room, and an eat-in kitchen that made Gabe want to cook. Like...meals-that-you-sit-down-to-eat type cooking.  
  
He went down the four brick steps and collected his first newspaper, The Mirror, giving the paperboy a friendly wave. The boy gave him a nod, pedaling on down the sidewalk.  
  
He lived in the kind of neighborhood that was quiet with activity. Sidewalks gave way to bikes and kids playing hop scotch, people walking dogs and pushing baby strollers. Trees were trimmed and lawns were mowed.  
  
Life was good. What could be better than Charming Acres, the safest town in the USA?  
  
  
******************************************  
  
  
Gabe tossed the cover back, staring blankly at the blank walls of his and Sam’s new bedroom. He groaned at the knots in his back and the dull ache in his hips. Whose idea had it been that this would be romantic? He was 29, not 12! Seven years ago; maybe. Three even. But right now, all he could do was wonder why he and Sam didn’t have better sense than to sleep on the bedroom floor their first night in their new house. Some of his more internal dull aches reminded him why. Okay, new house sex was fun.  
  
He listened as Sam’s energetic footfalls sounded on the steps outside their room. He was probably already back from an early morning run. How had he married a morning person? He grinned at the ceiling light. How had he married Sam Winchester at all? He was tall, gorgeous, smart, and entirely too good for him. Gabe had worked damn hard to woo Sam. That’s how. Luckily for Gabe, Sam liked to eat and study at the restaurant he had worked at. And while Gabe had picked up many a hot college guy, he knew Sam was different from the moment they kissed on their first date. The wooing commenced in full force. And Sam, phenomenal being that he was, had never been so doted on in his entire life. Gabe got a job on Sam’s campus as a custodian, putting the two even more in each other’s orbits. And though it had taken some proving, he had convinced the man that he was worth holding onto. So much so, that when Sam landed his first full time job at James Bowie High School in Austin, Texas, as the guidance counselor, he had asked Gabe to marry him. They saved money and three years later, bam. Here they were. Living like the fucking Cleavers in Arkansas.  
  
The door opened with a clunk against the wall. Sam winced at the doorknob. “I’ll have to put a doorstop on that.”  
  
Gabe grinned up at him from the floor, spying the steaming cup of coffee in his hand. “Please tell me that’s mine.”  
  
Sam, already sweaty in his shorts and t-shirt, squatted beside him. “Sure is.” He sat the cup on the floor and leaned down to kiss him.  
  
“Oh God, you’re sweaty!” Gabe squirmed.  
  
“I am,” Sam grinned. “And the front door is locked, and I was thinking maybe you could join me in the shower.”  
  
Gabe chuckled, wiping Sam’s face off with his blanket. “We don’t have a shower curtain up yet, Samshine.”  
  
Sam’s smile fell. “Shit. That’s right.”  
  
“I’ll put it on my priority list for today,” Gabe amended, sweeping the pad of his thumb across Sam’s mouth, grinning when he bit it, like he always did.  
  
Sam lifted a knee, straddling him on the floor. “Last night was fun.”  
  
Gabe chuckled. Who knew stairwells could be porn scenes? “Yes, it was. First of many.” He pulled his elbows back, leveraging himself up to kiss him properly. Memories of Sam taking him against the wall at the foot of the stairs had his confined dick straining. When his husband had stopped abruptly and fucked him from behind while he clung to the stairs and handrail, it had been mind blowing for sure. He pulled back from the steamy kiss. “Remind me to mop the steps.”  
  
“I already did,” Sam laughed.  
  
“God, you’re perfect.” Gabe deflated back to the floor. “Is it bedtime yet?”  
  
“You wish. Come on, Gabe! It’s moving day! By tonight, our house will be full of furniture and boxes!”  
  
“A bed, Sam. As long as there’s a bed, I’m good.”  
  
“Our newly bought king size bed,” Sam grinned.  
  
“And guests,” Gabe pouted.  
  
Sam tilted his head with a pouty grin of his own. “He’s done so much for us.”  
  
“I know,” Gabe answered easily, tucking hair behind Sam’s ear. “It just means I’m not gonna get laid in front of our fireplace. Because we have a fireplace. In our living room that we share with no one. In our own house.”  
  
Sam laughed. “I promise the first chance we get; you’ll get your fireplace fantasy.”  
  
“Mmmm,” Gabe hummed. “In my fantasy, you are wearing a suit. And I am wearing shackles and a hard on.”  
  
Sam kissed him again, then got to his feet. “Guess I gotta go shopping then. Think they sell shackles at the hardware store down the road?”  
  
“Please, God,” Gabe laughed. “I wanna be there when you ask!”  
  
Sam pulled his t-shirt off, heading for the bathroom. “Come on. Dean will be here by noon. The moving truck will be here by two O’clock.”  
  
Gabe sat up, sipping his coffee, and cradling the mug like the precious gem it was. “Yeah, yeah. Cassie won’t be here until tomorrow. His flight got delayed.”  
  
  
************************************************  
  
  
Hooooly shit. Dean stared around the neighborhood as he shut Baby’s door with a semi-quiet thunk. Sam wasn’t lying. Idyllic was one way to put it. Creepy was more like it. Charming Acres was small. One main drag with tons of little shops and required places to make a town a town. But everything looked like it was from the 1950s, including all the people walking around smiling and going about (apparently) very cheerful tasks. An older lady across the street beamed at him with a smile and a friendly wave.  
  
Dean grinned, waving back. There was something too cheerful and too peppy about the lady’s grin that pressed all his buttons, making him suspicious. And she was wearing a freakin’ sweater with snowmen on it. It was mid-summer! In Arkansas! Wasn’t she freaking melting? She headed up her walkway to where her (he guessed) husband stood on the porch in khakis and a blue sweater vest with a wide grin and a pipe in his hand. He waved too, getting a creeped-out head nod from Dean as he rounded his car and headed to the white house Sam had sent him a picture of.  
  
“They’re all robots,” Gabe muttered, waiting for him on the porch. He grinned and waved to the silver-haired neighbors.  
  
“That’s what I thought,” Dean muttered back.  
  
Gabe’s face eased into a real grin when he turned to look at him. “Glad you made it, Dean-O!”  
  
“Yeah! The drive was a bitch.”  
  
“You drove all the way from Alaska?”  
  
“I do hate flying,” Dean admitted. “Took my time though. Probably my last time there.”  
  
“So, you’re really doing it? No more Deadliest Catch for you?”  
  
“Yeah. My buddy Cain retired. Only skipper out there I really trust. Besides, figured it was time to settle the hell down. These thirty-year-old knees aren’t what they used to be.”  
  
“Well, Sam’s freakin’ thrilled. You know he wants you to move here, right?”  
  
Dean nodded. He’d been transient for most of his life. Settling down felt...huge. As solid and heavy as the stone pillars that framed Sam and Gabe’s front porch. He just wasn’t too sure yet if that was grounding or suffocating. “Nice place.”  
  
“I promised you I would make Sam a happy man.”  
  
Dean shrugged his shoulders at the front door. “Yeah. He’s into all this white picket fence crap.”  
  
“You are not wrong,” Gabe sighed, opening the screen door for him to walk inside.  
  
“Sammy!” Dean hollered, stepping into a bare living room with hardwood floors, a fireplace with a real mantle, and built-in shelves on either side that his nerdy brother would surely have packed with books by the end of the week.  
  
Sam appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, his face lighting up. “Dean!”  
  
He crossed the room, hugging his brother with a few firm smacks to the back. “Good to see you, man.”  
  
Sam took his duffle bag, waving him into the kitchen. “You too! How long you been on land?”  
  
Dean shrugged away the immediate weight the memories brought. “I don’t know. Ten days? Long enough to pick up my shit from storage. And Baby. Left town the day I got there.”  
  
“Aaron seriously dumped you on a message?”  
  
Dean shrugged one shoulder, taking in the light wood cabinets, white marble counters, and faux brick vinyl flooring. It was a nice kitchen. “He said if I went out again he was gonna dump my ass. Can’t say I was surprised. At least he didn’t throw all my shit away.”  
  
Sam shook his head. “Want a beer?”  
  
“Sure.” Dean took the cold bottle, screwing the cap off and hesitating before flicking it to the kitchen sink, like was his habit.  
  
Gabe motioned for him to proceed, but Sam turned to the door behind him. “I got a trash bag going here.”  
  
Dean flicked the cap. It clinked on the side of the sink, clattering to the drain catch.  
  
“Two points!” Gabe cheered, buttoning up quick when Sam’s bitchface went from Dean to him.  
  
Dean chuckled, taking a long drink. “Don’t worry, Sammy. I won’t muddy the place up too bad.”  
  
Sam grinned anyway, getting the cap from the catch to put into the trash bag. “I know you think this is ridiculous.”  
  
Dean’s smile disappeared. “It isn’t ridiculous. This is a nice house. And the neighborhood is...friendly.”  
  
“Nosy,” Gabe chipped in.  
  
“And if it makes you happy, I am more than happy, Sam.”  
  
Sam huffed a half-hearted laugh.  
  
“I live in a cabin that I share with six other people when we’re out on crabbing hauls. Aaron’s apartment was nice, but the motels I lived in were shit and I know it. Old mentalities break slowly, okay? Besides, I’m the big brother. I’m just doing my job here, pickin’ on you.”  
  
Sam nodded, smiling at the floor. “Alright.”  
  
“I’m proud of you, Sam. You put your mind to it and made it happen. Married, house, you aren’t pregnant yet, are you, Gabe?”  
  
They all laughed at that. “No!” Gabe slid up onto the counter to sit. “But there’s already been conversations about a dog.”  
  
Dean rolled his eyes with a grin. “So predictable, Sammy.”  
  
Sam smirked. “You guys are dicks. I’ll be glad when Cas gets here.”  
  
Gabe and Dean laughed. He was more than happy for his little brother. And he was thankful Gabe had calmed into a perfect spouse for Sam. Gabe did anything and everything in his power to spoil the shit outta Sam. And that was exactly what Dean had hoped for. Sam deserved to be happy. He deserved good things. Nice things. A safe place and all the love he could handle.  
  
Dean had first met Gabe when Sam was a junior in college. It wasn’t the first time Sam had gone out with a guy. But it was the first time Sam had been so infatuated with one. Gabe was a wildcard and Dean figured he’d be around for a semester’s worth of entertainment. The guy certainly could throw a party. When Sam was lovesick over the following summer, Dean thought he might hurl every day. And then Sam became Sam and Gabe. The pair were never apart. Sam then graduated and started making a real life for himself. And though Dean had wondered a time or two if the pair were gonna make it out in the real world, they did. And Dean couldn’t be happier for his baby brother.  
  
Things had gone wrong for Sam pretty much since he was born. He was a baby when their mom died in a fire. He was in second grade when their dad went to jail. He was in seventh grade when their dad died in a car crash. Growing up Winchester meant living on the road. It meant getting yourself beat to hell if you fucked up. And it wasn’t hard to fuck up. It meant stolen Christmas presents, hopping schools, manning up, and in general - not getting what you wanted, let alone needed. It meant social services, foster care, juvie, and hardening yourself to the world. Because the world was ugly. Harsh. It would chew you up and spit you out.  
  
But Sam never bought into their dad’s brainwashing. He didn’t wear his scars like albatrosses. He knew there was a better life out there, and he fucking took it.  
  
Dean was so Goddam proud, he could cry. Atta boy, Sammy.  
  
Gabe’s easy nature and snarky humor were the answer to Sam’s magical chemistry of requirements. The pair were so romantic and gone on each other that dating had been remarkably, and blessedly, smooth. Sam had never had his heart broken. Unless you counted the stack of travesties he endured as a kid. If you counted those, it made no sense that Sam ever loved anything. It was remarkable that he stood here in the kitchen, grinning, chatting, planning. Gabe’s nickname for Sam summed it up quite accurately. Sam was a fucking ray of sunshine. Samshine. And Dean considered it a much-owed win from the universe. Sam had a big win coming. And here he was, standing in it. Love. Life. And a house of his very own.  
  
“We painted both bathrooms and the kitchen last week,” Sam went on as Dean followed him on his tour of the house. “I’m not bothering with the office. I’ll just be working in there when I need to. And Gabe swears he won’t ever bring work home.”  
  
Gabe, a custodian at the college Sam went to, swaggered his way through work as much as he did life. He’d landed a maintenance job at the nursing home right before you turned onto Lily Dale Lane, the street their house was on. It was so fucking quaint it made Dean want to itch. Dean had to give it to the guy though, he made life fun. He certainly entertained the shit outta Dean. Their shared amusement with Sam’s Susie-sunshine mentality had only brought them together even stronger, much to Sam’s annoyance.  
  
They went up the stairs and peeked into Sam’s master bedroom and bathroom. “Sweet,” Dean marveled, a little awed that Sam had a freaking shower AND jacuzzi tub. He looked at the closets and nodded as Sam bitched about the lack of outlets.   
  
“This is the second bedroom.” Sam pushed open the door and Dean wandered around the sloped-ceilinged room, peeking out the window to see the row of perfect yards that lined up one by one.   
  
“This’ll be nice, Sam.”  
  
Back downstairs, he saw the office, picturing Sam’s desk and bookshelves making it a warm, cozy room. They saw the living room again, a half bathroom, and patio out the back door. He could picture barbecues, and neighbors filling the yard. Shit. He could even picture a dog.  
  
“Wow, Sam,” Dean said, not meaning to come across as heavy as he did.  
  
Sam slid his hands into his jean pockets. “Kinda crazy, right?”  
  
“No,” Dean snorted. “That’s what’s so crazy. This is good. You did good, Sam. Real good.”  
  
The brothers exchanged a fleeting glance that held a lot of history.  
  
“I never woulda got here without you, Dean.”  
  
Dean smirked, staring across the yard at a cherry tree. “I’m sure you woulda. You’re a white picket fence sorta guy.” Dean laughed sharp, pointing at the far end of his yard. “You ACTUALLY have a white picket fucking fence!”  
  
Sam laughed. “I know, right?! It doesn’t seem real! Me! It’s nuts!”  
  
Dean watched as a neighbor turned from watching them, heading inside their house with a bag and what looked like garden clippings. Jesus. These people took their yard scraps inside for trash? Dean shook his head in bemusement.  
  
“Sam, it doesn’t matter what kind of house you live in.” He looked at his brother again, knowing Sam didn’t just want lip service. The guy needed his approval. Psychologist or not, he was still Sam. And he was still Dean. “What matters is what happens behind closed doors.”  
  
A haunted look passed between the two.   
  
“You and Gabe got a good thing goin’ here.” He gave his little brother an encouraging slug on the shoulder. “So, how you plannin’ on slaving me today?”  
  
“The moving truck will be here in an hour or so. I think Gabe has some breakfast ready.”

“Awesome. I need some bacon.”  
  
  
********************************************  
  
  
Sam collapsed onto the sofa. “How did we squeeze all this shit into that tiny apartment?”  
  
Gabe, sitting on the floor with his back against a wall, looked at him like he was crazy. “We NEED furniture! Don’t be goin’ minimalist on me, Samshine. I might have to put my foot down.”  
  
Sam chuckled. “I guess you’re right.”  
  
“It really wasn’t that much. Besides, I don’t want you to waste my housewarming gift,” Dean added.  
  
“Dean,” Sam said in exasperation. “You promised.”  
  
“I lie,” Dean grinned.  
  
Sam sighed, his head dropping back. “I don’t want a gift.” Dean had helped him so much. He helped him through school. He’d helped him his whole life. From changing his freaking diapers to walking him to school, making dinners, helping him with homework, ALL the money he’d given him while in college, furniture for their first apartment! Dean gave all the time.  
  
“Well, it’ll look weird sitting on the curb. The neighbors might bitch.”  
  
“What is it?” Gabe asked.  
  
“You’ll see,” Dean grinned.  
  
Gabe’s phone began playing ‘Bitch’ by Meredith Brooks (a total 90’s flashback). ‘I’m a bitch, I’m a lover, I’m a child, I’m a mother. I’m a sinner, I’m a saint. I do not feel ashamed -’  
  
“Hey!” Gabe grinned, answering the call. “Goodie, goodie gumdrops! Alright, sounds good. See you then.” Gabe hung up, dropping his phone beside him.  
  
“Cas land okay?” Sam asked, knowing he was flying in from Tokyo. He also knew that was Cas’ ringtone, much to Cas’ annoyance.  
  
“Yep,” Gabe answered, head still lounged back.  
  
“Dude. That’s your brother’s ringtone? That’s cold!” Dean laughed.  
  
Gabe chuckled. “He’s a bitch and he knows it. Besides, it makes him so pissy when he hears it play!”  
  
“You’re so mean,” Sam huffed.  
  
“He’s my brother! It’s my job,” Gabe huffed back, smirking over at Dean who lifted his beer in salute.  
  
Sam rolled his eyes.  
  
“So, Cas is coming?” Dean asked.  
  
“He’ll be here tomorrow,” Gabe yawned.  
  
Dean nodded. “His timing is perfect,” he griped. “Coulda used some extra muscle with that damn dresser.”  
  
The pair had met twice before. Once when he had graduated from college and again at the wedding. He really hoped Dean was nice to the guy. The only thing they had in common was him and Gabe. As far as he knew, they had gotten along fine during the wedding, but this would be for longer than a day. Dean could get so solitary. His brother was a badass. A deckhand and welder on a crabbing boat doing one of the world’s deadliest jobs. But put him in a group of normal-functioning people and he got quiet and reserved. When he had done this around Sam’s friends in college, Dean had said he didn’t really belong with good people. Give him a crew of salty, sea dogs any day over a group of college kids. Sam had argued that was not true, and Dean deserved just as much good in his life than he had, but he knew he hadn’t gotten through to him. So, hopefully Dean wouldn’t shut down and pull away or be so crass it put Cas off. Hopefully, he would get along with Cas as well as he got along with Gabe. And Cas was pretty laid-back. He was used to Gabe’s brand of humor, so maybe dealing with Dean’s bitchy one-liners would be no big deal. So, hopefully the four of them could get along fine and keep having fun. As annoying as Dean and Gabe could get when they were together, he really hoped some of that spark stayed intact when Cas showed up tomorrow. It mattered more than he liked to admit that has little family all got along really well.  
  
Cas visited them once a month or so, but it never worked out to have Dean there at the same time. Between Cas’ job as a traveling nurse (which had been international the last year) and Dean being in Alaska and out at sea all the time, their visits had always been separate. He was glad the two could finally get to know each other better. It had to happen eventually. They were family now.  
  
A knock at the front door had all of them looking at it in confusion.  
  
“Who the hell is that? No one knows we live here yet!” Gabe scoffed, getting up.  
  
“It could be Garth. Or it might be a neighbor!” Sam whispered, joining him as he opened the door.  
  
“Well hello there!” A tall, thin man stood on their porch with a grinning blonde beside him, holding a tray of cupcakes.  
  
“Hi,” Gabe and Sam said in unison, Sam nudging Gabe aside to open the screen door and let them in. The couple looked like they walked straight out of a Rockwell print, wearing a tan, tweed suit (with a matching hat) and her in a just-below-the-knee dress with little roses all over it, hair in a jaunty ponytail.  
  
“We’re your neighbors! I’m Justin Smith and this here’s my foxy wife, Cindy!”  
  
Cindy blushed, her perfectly lip-sticked mouth showing perfect white teeth as it dropped for a second and she elbowed Justin with a wink. “Oh you! I’m Cindy!”  
  
“It’s nice to meet you,” Sam grinned, shaking their hands as Gabe took the tray of cupcakes with a thank you. “I’m Sam,” and this would be where he could gage how accepting the neighbors would be, “and this is my husband, Gabe.”  
  
“Oh!” Justin grinned, reaching to shake Gabe’s hand. “Nice to meet you!”  
  
Cindy looked taken by surprise as her eyes widened, but her smile never faltered. “Yes, well, nice to meet you!”  
  
Okay, so they recovered their surprise fairly well.  
  
“We live two houses over,” Cindy went on, pointing to indicate the first house on Lily Dale Lane.   
  
“So! Where are you boys from?” Justin asked, still grinning wide as he shoved his hands into his pockets.  
  
“Austin,” Gabe answered, poking at one of the pink iced cupcakes that looked like it could be on a cover of a baking magazine.  
  
“Weeeell,” Justin rocked back, “that mean you’re a couple of cowboys or city slickers?”  
  
“We’ve seen Brokeback Mountain,” Cindy added, nodding as if that were simultaneously naughty and open minded of them.  
  
“Have you, now?” Gabe grinned.  
  
Oh, he was gonna hear about this all night. Sam cleared his throat, giving his husband a warning grin. “We were in the city, so...guess that makes us city folk.” Sam huffed an uncomfortable laugh.  
  
“Well, welcome to Charming Acres, the safest town in the USA!” Cindy grinned, her shoulders lifting in more excitement than the situation really called for.  
  
“Uh, thank you!” Sam nodded. “These cupcakes look beautiful!”  
  
“That’s my Cindy!” Justin grinned lovingly down at his wife, who waved him off with a flattered grin.  
  
“Uh, this is my brother, Dean, he’ll be here visiting for a while.” He wasn’t sure why he felt the need to explain their life stories. It could have been the eager look in their eyes.  
  
“Hey,” Dean said, shaking their hands with a loaded grin. Sam knew if he didn’t curb this conversation quickly enough, either Gabe or Dean were going to say something scandalous enough to make this incredibly awkward and start them off with a horrendous first impression.   
  
“Bet you’ve seen Philadelphia too,” Dean grinned tauntingly.  
  
And there it was.  
  
Dammit, Dean.  
  
Gabe chuckled as Cindy and Justin blinked back at them cluelessly, smiles still plastered.  
  
“Thank you, again, for the cupcakes!” Sam rushed in.  
  
“You’re welcome!” Cindy grinned, spinning for the door.   
  
“We’re putting together a welcome to Charming Acres barbecue for you!” Justin added, stepping toward the door. “Guess you two love barbecue, being from the Lone Star state!”  
  
“We do!” Sam nodded, following them out to the porch. “You don’t have to go to all that trouble though.”  
  
Cindy put a hand on her hip, looking as scolding as a Barbie doll could pull off. “Now, it’s no trouble! It wouldn’t be Charming Acres without a great big neighborly welcome!”  
  
They waved as they left, Sam waving back.  
  
“Bet there’s gonna be some phone calls tonight!” Gabe muttered from in the living room.  
  
Sam went inside, closing the door. “You two are terrible.”  
  
“Hey! They’re cultured! They’ve seen Brokeback Mountain,” Dean pandered.  
  
“Sam nasty!” Gabe winked.  
  
“Stop it. They were nice!” Sam laughed, unable to keep up his pretense of taking himself seriously.  
  
“Careful Gabe,” Dean laughed, “ol’ Justin might invite you to go fishing.”  
  
Sam snatched the cupcake tray, both of them following him like toddlers to a snack table.  
  
  
  
*********************************************************  
  
  
  
Cas stepped out of the taxi, glancing around at the town around him. Charming Acres was certainly charming. The downtown was full of little shops with decorated windows and people walking everywhere. The sign on the way into town proclaimed it to be the safest town in the USA. He supposed it was nice, but after the hustle and bustle of the tight streets in Tokyo, it was strikingly different.   
  
He collected his bags from the cabbie and looked up at the three-story, pink Victorian in front of him. Dowling’s Boarding House stood in front of him like a life size dollhouse. Across the street was Harrington’s Soda Shoppe, adorned with an eight-foot-tall strawberry milkshake. The place looked like it was straight out of the 1950s.  
  
He picked up his bags and headed up the wooden porch steps, lifting a hand to knock on the door. Before his knuckles could tap the door, it swung open.  
  
“Hello! You must be our traveling nurse!”  
  
Cas frowned, confused by how she knew who he was. And his occupation. He was a traveling nurse, but how would she know that?  
  
“I’m Ms. Dowling,” she grinned, stepping back.  
  
“Castiel,” he introduced, stepping inside. It was a beautiful old home.  
  
“Your brother made arrangements for you,” she smiled, waving him up the stairs to follow her. She seemed quite animated in her gestures, making Castiel feel slightly curious. Her uniform was also unusual. She wore a green and blue plaid dress that looked formal. Most people that ran their own B&B’s or boarding houses didn’t wear uniforms, let alone high heels and pearl necklaces with them. Perhaps he had been overseas too long.  
  
“Here’s your room,” she said, sweeping into a bedroom of simple, yet dated, furnishings.  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
“Dinner is served at seven on the dot. Pot roast tonight,” she beamed a grin, which Cas fumbled to return. “No visitors after eight. Wouldn’t be proper. And no lady callers except in the parlor.”  
  
“Lady callers?” Cas repeated.  
  
“Morals. We have got to have morals.”  
  
“Right,” Cas nodded, totally confused. “What about gentleman callers?”  
  
She waved him off with a laugh. “Stop foolin’!”  
  
“I wasn’t,” Cas said softly as she bustled out of the room, singing a song he was unfamiliar with. Gabriel had done some weird shit in his time, but this place might just be the weirdest yet.  
  
  
  



	2. Lily Dale Lane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas and Dean meet for the first time in several years. We learn a little more about the neighbors.

Chapter 2: Lily Dale Lane

Dean exchanged a look with Gabe when a knock sounded on the front door.

“It’s your turn to answer,” Gabe groaned.

Screwdriver in hand with three screws poking out of his mouth, Dean huffed. “It’s not my house. They’re your weird neighbors.”

Gabe’s head dropped before he got to his feet. “I miss Austin. Nobody gave a shit who you were or why you were there. You wave ‘howdy’ and keep moving. These people are invasive!”

Dean chuckled as he went back to work attaching the final leg of their kitchen table. Sam and Gabe had already had three visitors this morning. The Carrigans brought a casserole. The Whittakers brought a casserole. And some chick named Melanie brought a pie.

Melanie was currently in the winning spot and, so far, the only ‘normal’ person that had welcomed them to the neighborhood.

Dean damn near swallowed the last screw in his mouth when he looked up and saw Cas strolling into the kitchen behind Gabe.

“Look! It’s the weirdest visitor yet!” Gabe grinned.

Cas frowned at his brother, not that it detracted from how fucking hot he looked. Cas looked hot whether he was scowling, confused, smiling, or half asleep. The guy was just fucking hot.

Dean spit the screw out into his hand, licking his lips to hastily look half put together. “Hey, Cas!”

Cas’ blue eyes lowered, landing on Dean with the piercing intensity he remembered from Sam and Gabe’s hectic wedding weekend 3 years ago. “Hello, Dean.”

Yeah. He sounded fucking hot too. Just like he remembered.

Dean got to his feet quickly. Using any and all excuses to touch him, he held his hand out, grinning with a warm surge of ‘fuck yeah’ when they clasped hands to shake. All too soon it was over, and he felt left bereft. “It’s good to see you!”

Cas grinned at him. “You too. Sam says you are no longer working in Alaska.”

Sam was talking about him? To Cas? Had Cas asked about him? “Yeah. If I don’t pull out now, I’ll end up like one of those old-ass salty dogs. Or at the bottom of the Bering Sea. Figured I better get out now.” Shit. Did he just make himself sound old? Like...washed up? Dammit!

Cas’ smile softened, his eyes still easily holding his. “Well, I’m glad you avoided both.”

“Yeah,” Dean forced a nervous little laugh, fidgeting with the screwdriver, dropping the screw. He dove to pick it up and stood to the loss of the man’s attention. He was looking at Gabe now, the pair talking about - something. Shit. He really shoulda prepared himself a little better today. He was wearing ratty jeans and a stained, old Bon Jovi t-shirt. Bon Jovi wasn’t even that cool! Okay, he was cool, but he shoulda worn his Led Zeppelin shirt today. Dammit. And jeans without holes. He was fairly sure he had a pair like that. He perked up instantly as Cas turned back to him. How could blue look warm? Blue was a cold color. Like the blue of the harsh, cold ocean he spent too long in. He’d kinda learned to hate the color blue. Well...he was totally retracting THAT ridiculous thought. Blue was warm and inviting.

“Earth to Dean!” Gabe yelled.

Startled, Dean’s attention snapped to Gabe. “What?”

Gabe rolled his eyes. “I said, let’s flip this table over and have some lunch. I’m starved! And the Whittaker’s casserole is still warm and smells good.”

“Yeah,” Dean moved to slide his toolbox out of the way and grab a table leg.

“You still have one more screw to put in,” Cas interrupted him.

With his back to Cas, he closed his eyes, realizing how ridiculous he must look. “Yeah, I was just gonna put it in after we flip it,” he said, smirking at his own weak-ass save.

The three of them turned the table over with ease, centering it on the right side of the large kitchen. As the other two moved chairs into place around it, Dean put the final screw in. He was sure Cas had gotten ten times hotter since the last time he saw him. Or had his memory of the guy faded over time? Either way, he seemed much more relaxed than the uptight brother of the groom that had stressed every detail and was (in general) not interested in the bachelor party. They knew each other a little, but Dean already knew he was going to do his damnedest to make this visit count. It was kinda mind boggling that someone could look so good decked out in a suit, flustered and nervous; yet rock a pair of jeans and t-shirt with effortless flair.

He busied himself organizing his tools while the brothers cleaned the table and set it quickly for lunch.

The front door opened and thudded closed. He looked up to see Sam rushing in, arms full of bags. “I woulda been here ten minutes ago but I ran into a Mark somebody who heard from Justin we were new in town and...I kinda lost track of how exactly they knew about me already. Cas! You’re here!” Sam hugged Cas as the pair fell into easy conversation.

Damn. He shoulda gone for a hug. Could he have pulled off a hug? Maybe not. Yeah, too soon. But damn. He was officially jealous of Sam. Maybe tomorrow? No. Still too soon. He shook himself slightly before he got caught unable to follow simple conversation again.

******************************************************

“What is this?” Sam asked, poking the cheesy mess on his plate. He preferred his food intact enough to recognize what it was. And not touching. This was...gooey. “Who made it?”

“The stern guy and his super nosy wife,” Dean answered, scooping out his second helping from the pan.

“Otherwise known as Wayne Whittaker and his wife...shit. I forget her name. Frizzy red hair. But they live across the street next to the crazy sweater people.”

“Nellie,” Sam supplied, having been the one to answer the door when they had come. 

“That’s right,” Gabe said, pointing with his fork. “Nosy Nellie. She’s always snooping around the neighborhood, acting like she’s getting the mail or watering her flowers.”

“The crazy sweater people, as you so kindly put it, are the Carrigans,” Sam supplied, teasing what might be a carrot out of the square shaped slop on his plate.

“Wait until you meet these whack-jobs we share a street with,” Gabe went on, making Cas chuckle.

“I did notice that the entire town is...strangely picturesque,” Cas said.

Sam pried the carrot, yep, it was a carrot, away from the square, glancing up at Cas. “Not you too! I figured of all of us, you’d like it here more than these two!”

Cas grinned, eating another bite as he glanced at Dean, who had been quiet through lunch so far. “It is a very nice town,” Cas amended. “And the house is beautiful.”

Sam grinned as Gabe went on about their ordeal with getting their furniture moved. He took the distraction to kick Dean’s toe under the table, lifting one brow when his brother looked up at him half startled. “You good?” He mouthed.

Dean nodded his head. But Sam knew him better than anyone. He was getting quiet. His smartass one-liners were few. And he had had plenty of opportunities. Something was up. Was it Aaron? Was it a worse break-up than he had let on? It was such a typical Dean thing to do to suffer in silence, alone and not sharing. But the change had definitely hit when Cas arrived. He was going to have to help Dean loosen up. 

“Ms. Dowling has been a treat,” Cas said, looking up with an amused tilt to his mouth. “Apparently I’m supposed to be back by no later than nine O’clock each night.”

“What?!” He and Gabe scoffed.

“And,” Cas added with a contrite grin, “no lady callers after eight. And they can only go to the parlor.”

“What the hell?” Gabe muttered. “I swear this town gets weirder by the day.”

Sam immediately felt bad. “You can stay here, Cas. We just didn’t have anywhere for you to sleep with Dean staying on the couch. The guest room is empty. We could put a bed in there.”

“I can get a motel room,” Dean offered.

“No,” Cas grinned. “Honestly, I find her rather fascinating. I’ve never been inside what feels like the Saturday Evening Post before. She made pot roast and spoke about rock-n-roll like it was risqué, which isn’t that odd, but all she listens to is 50’s rock!”

Dean snorted with an incredulous look of disgust.

“I know,” Cas laughed. “It’s just so...nostalgic!” He went back to poking at his casserole. “I’m telling you, it’s fascinating. I did ask about gentlemen callers, but she thought I was joking.”

“She sounds horrible,” Gabe said, staring at his brother. “You don’t have to stay there. I just figured it was close.”

Cas waved him off. “You’ll have to come for dinner one night. She thinks Elvis is ‘just swell’.”

Sam gave Cas an amused grin. Well, at least he was making light of the situation. He cringed to think how Dean would handle it.

*************************************

That night, after a long day of organizing the kitchen and letting Sam direct him to hang pictures in every room, Gabe sat down on the front porch. Dean had hung the swing he and Sam had bought, and he had to admit, he kinda liked sitting on his front porch.

“Shit,” he muttered, catching sight of Justin Smith walking toward his house sporting a gray suit with matching hat. Gabe, in his basketball shorts and t-shirt wondered how the hell the guy pulled off suits in freaking July.

“Well, hello there, neighbor!” Justin beamed up at him. The guy was thin as a rail and his wire-rimmed glasses perched smartly on his nose.

“Hey, Justin,” Gabe relented.

“The missis wants me to formally invite you to the neighborhood barbecue at our place Saturday afternoon!”

Ooohhhh....how could he get out of this?

“It’s a big Charming Acres welcome picnic for you and Sam!”

Internally, Gabe sighed with a whine. “Well, thank you,” Gabe grinned. “Sounds good!”

“Say...noon?”

“High noon,” Gabe nodded. “I’ll let Sam know and we’ll be there.”

Justin waved with a return nod. “Will your brother still be in town?”

“Dean? He’s Sam’s brother. But mine’s in town too. I’ll bring them along.”

“That sounds swell!” Justin waved, heading up Lily Dale Lane toward where it dead-ended at a big, fancy house. 

Gabe turned to watch him, wondering if the guy was just out for a walk. He sorta looked like he was on a mission as he headed up the road. He was given an answer as Justin swiftly passed the two houses between theirs and the crowning jewel on Lily Dale. The man headed up the semi-circle driveway until bushes blocked Gabe’s view and he couldn’t see him anymore. 

Cas came out the front door. “There you are,” he said softly, handing him a beer as he sat next to him.

They stared out at the quiet neighborhood as the street lights came on.

“Apparently there is a neighborhood barbecue being held in our honor on Saturday afternoon.”

“Your neighbors sure are friendly.” Cas turned to him with a teasing grin. “Look at you. So domesticated.”

“Shut up,” Gabe chuckled, taking a drink.

“Sam is good for you.”

“I know,” Gabe sighed. Darkness shaded the evening around them.

“I’m glad you’re here, Cassie,” he said quietly, watching as a truck came down Lily Dale Lane and turned onto the lane across from their house.

“Me too,” Cas said, grinning out at the oncoming night. “I’ve missed you.”

Gabe grinned. He and Cas had always been close. They had a pile of brothers and sisters that still lived down in Texas. But the zealots could stay there, as far as either one of them were concerned. “I’ve missed you too, little brother.”

“I think I’m going to be here for a while.”

Gabe turned to study his brother. Cas was quiet. Not shy, just often not outspoken, like himself. Cas had wanted to be a nurse since back when he carted a play doctor kit with him everywhere. As kids, he’d worn so many band aids that covered pretend boo-boos that, to this day, if he used one, he could hear little-Cassie’s voice.

“I think hospice nursing is wearing you down, Cassie.”

Cas sighed heavily, sinking back into the swing. “This last client was...”

“Kevin Tran?” Gabe clarified.

Cas nodded. “He fought so hard. I’ve never met someone who fought so hard. And her too. His mother. She was...relentless in her pursuit for a cure.”

Gabe put his arm around Cas’ shoulders, pulling him into his side, resting his chin in his brother’s thick hair. “I’m proud of you.”

“I know,” Cas grumbled.

“But I think you need a break from these one on one hospice cases. Especially overseas where you barely speak the language and you’re so far away.”

Cas patted Gabe’s knee. “Kevin and his family spoke perfect English. They were in Japan for his mother’s work. Kevin’s family is actually Chinese in descent, and Kevin was born in Canada. They hired me in hopes that Kevin would not only have someone to talk to, but I do speak some Japanese, making communication with healthcare providers easier. But you’re right. I’ve been so cut off from...living.”

“Too much time spent with the dying. I told you your job was a real downer!”

Cas huffed a laugh. “It is fulfilling work.”

Gabe sat up, giving his too-serious sibling a gentle shove. “Find a fun job! Work in an ER or...how about for a plastic surgeon? Bet they get to see some hot, naked bods!”

Cas laughed, drinking his beer. “I’ll get a job soon. I just wanted to be sure you did not feel I was...”

“In my personal space,” Gabe smirked. “You’ve been in my space since you were born. All up in my business.”

Cas started laughing.

“Gabey,” Gabe mocked Cassie’s four-year-old voice, “I think you have a feeeber! Let me take your temature!”

“God, I was a pain!” Cas laughed.

“Gabey,” Gabe went on, “Let’s play! Watch me! Can I have your samich? Play ball with me!”

Sam came out the front door, grinning at them as the pair laughed, nudging each other hard enough to make the swing jerk back and forth.

Gabe laughed through another teasing mock. “What do you mean I can’t come on your date with you?” 

“I never asked to go on dates with you!” Cas laughed, getting up.

Gabe sighed, letting the laughter wash over him like applying lotion to dry skin. Sam took Cas’ vacated seat, draping an arm around Gabe. Gabe leaned into Sam’s side, his hand resting on his knee. “Cassie’s moving to town!”

Sam’s body stilled and Gabe knew he was giving Cassie his trademark puppy-dog-so-happy smile. “You’re moving here?! To Charming Acres?!”

Cas nodded, leaning against the porch railing. “I’ve been traveling for almost three years now and when I thought about settling down...I would prefer to be close to you guys.”

Sam got up, hugging Cas. “I’m so glad! We’re so glad!”

Cas stepped out of the hug, grinning bashfully at the porch floor. “Thank you, Sam. I’m just feeling like...it’s time to be home. And...” he glanced over his shoulder at the neighborhood, fully dark now, “I suppose this town is as good as any.”

“Better!” Gabe scoffed. “I’m here. Now, if we can talk Dean-O into settling the hell down, it’ll be a fuckin’ party!”

“I’m stoked he’s here at all!” Sam said. “We got him here. If that’s a week or forever, I’ll take it. And I’m glad we finally got the two of you here together!”

Cas grinned, nodding a little as he took a sip of his beer.

“Damn. Feels good to have family around.” Gabe didn’t usually say such mushy things out loud...but it did feel good.

“It is an odd town,” Cas mused.

“Safest town in the USA!” Gabe and Sam said, laughing from hearing it and reading it so many times.

They sat for several moments before Dean came out and sat in the chair near the swing. “It’s nice out,” he said quietly.

“I like sitting out here,” Sam smiled, rocking the swing gently.

Gabe rested his head against Sam’s shoulder. “Justin stopped by in a full suit and said the neighborhood is throwin’ together a shindig for us on Saturday.”

“Aw, that’s nice,” Sam said.

Cas chuckled.

“Oh, you’re coming too,” Gabe added.

“No, I -”

“And Dean too.”

Dean groaned. “What kinda shindig are we talkin’ about? I don’t own a suit.”

“It’s a barbecue,” Gabe grinned.

Dean sighed.

“Come on, Dean!” Sam laughed. “They’ll have tons of food!”

He groaned something as Cas chuckled again.

“If I’m stuck going, so are you!” Dean glared.

Cas lifted both hands in resignation. “I’ll be there.”

Crickets took up the silence that followed and Gabe relaxed deep into Sam’s side, listening to the rhythmic, tiny squeak, squeak, squeak of the gently rocking porch swing.

“Are you seeing this?” Cas whispered suddenly.

“Mmmhmm,” Dean answered quietly.

“What?” Sam whispered as Gabe sat up, looking around the still neighborhood.

Cas backed off of the railing and leaned against the house next to Dean’s chair, stepping deep into the shadowed porch. “Some lady just left that house,” he pointed across the street at a small, two-story, tan house, “crossed the street -”

“More like scurried,” Dean chuckled.

“Then went along the side of the house next to yours.”

“The Frieling’s?” Sam asked, leaning forward.

Cas shrugged.

“Right next to you!” Dean whispered. “She was obviously sneaking around.”

“Go look!” Cas whispered, whacking Dean on the shoulder, making him jump.

“You go look!” Dean scoffed.

“Chicken,” Cas teased, making Dean snap-to.

“Oh, I got this.”

“I don’t think so,” Cas chuckled, both of them shushing each other as they moved over to the rail of the porch nearest to the Frieling’s house.  
Gabe went to the railing and leaned over it, trying to see along the house. He stared as hard as he could through the dark, catching a tiny movement. “She’s back there by the picnic table in their back yard,” he whispered.

All three of them pulled back hastily as the side door opened and a man came out, shutting the door carefully.

Gabe peeked back around the house, pushing Cas back from trying to edge in. “He’s going to talk to her!”

“I doubt they’re talkin’,” Dean said just above a whisper.

“Shhh!” Cas shushed him.

Cas and Dean leaned around him, the three watching the man approach the woman at the picnic table. They were whispering about something.

“He’s gonna bone ‘er,” Dean whispered.

“Maybe they are just talking,” Cas countered.

“They don’t have phones?” Dean bantered.

“Isn’t he married?” Gabe asked. “Pretty sure he has a wife...and she ain’t his wife.”

“Maybe they’re planning a surprise party FOR his wife,” Sam argued, finally joining them in their spying.

The woman wrapped her arms around the guy’s neck and kissed him, his hand sliding her short dress up with a familiarity that said this was not his first time with her.

Dean chuckled. “They must be speaking French and taking notes in Braille for this party planning.”

Sam swatted his brother as the four pulled back from the railing. 

“Dude, dude, dude!” Sam whispered, patting Gabe’s chest as his eyes went wide. He pointed to the Frieling’s front porch. 

They all moved against the house silently, watching as Mrs. Frieling snuck out the front door, crossed the street, and headed down Lily Dale Lane.

“Where’s she going?” Gabe chortled. “Think she saw them?”

“Didn’t really look like someone storming away from catching their spouse with another lover,” Cas said quietly.

“We need binoculars,” Dean muttered.

“She’s probably going over to a friend’s! It’s only like, 9:30!” Sam insisted.

“They gonna plan parties too, Sammy?” Dean asked, making Cas laugh and elbow him. 

Gabe squinted, watching Mrs. Frieling’s slim figure pass under the streetlight. She was on a mission. She passed the creepy-Christmas-Carrigan’s house, passed the nosy-Nellie lady’s house, and much like her husband’s visitor, snuck along the next house and into the back yard, disappearing.

“Well...that was unexpected,” Cas deadpanned.

“Friggin’ suburbs, man,” Dean swore.

“We really shouldn’t judge. We have no idea who these people are yet.”

Gabe rolled his eyes. They didn’t make ‘em as pure as his Samshine anymore. 

“Well, now we know they come out at night to play,” Dean grinned.

“Dean,” Sam sighed.

“Just sayin’,” Dean smirked.

“I believe Dean is right. Your neighbors appear to be nocturnal,” Cas said.

“And suddenly this barbecue sounds like a pretty good time,” Dean announced. “I can’t wait to see Mr. Picnic Table when Miss Picnic Table brings potato salad over for him and his wife.”

*****************************************

Castiel came into the parlor where Ms. Dowling was vacuuming with a type of powerless vacuum Cas had not seen since he was at a yard sale, years ago. She had earbuds in and was humming something peppy before she broke out into song, singing, “He wears tan shoes with pink shoelaces.”

“Ms. Dowling,” Cas called.

“He takes me deep sea fishing in a submarine,” she went on, making hand motions Cas thought he recalled seeing in Hairspray.

“Ms. Dowling!” He shouted.

She stopped, pulled the earbuds out and turned to him with a perturbed look.

“Sorry,” Cas apologized. He’d already been scolded for coming back after nine O’clock a few nights ago. Then, apparently, he seemed odd to her at dinner the next night when he talked about his travels to Japan. “I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be staying at Sam’s tonight.”

“That nice, tall man?” She smiled.

“Yes,” Cas answered, trying not to sound annoyed. She always described Sam that way. And though he had managed to work it into conversation that Sam was married to his brother Gabe, she continued to refer to both of them as his brothers.

She seemed to be deciding if it were permissible for him to be away for a night, which, frankly, started to piss Cas off, when a knock sounded at the door.

“Goodness me!” She declared, tucking the earbuds away as she passed him brusquely to answer the door. “Well! What a pleasant surprise!”

“Hi,” Sam grinned from the door.

Cas retrieved his bag from the bench in the foyer, trying not to be annoyed.

“I’ll see you at the barbecue!” Ms. Dowling grinned, eyes all for Sam.

“You are coming to the barbecue?” Cas asked, stepping out the door to join Sam.

“Sure thing!” She turned to go back to her work as they left.

“She always seems so nice!” Sam laughed, quite familiar with Castiel’s tales of her odd behavior and blatant favoritism of Sam.

“To you,” Cas griped. Ms. Dowling’s Boarding House sat along Prosperity Road, the main street that ran through Charming Acres. The next business was Sunset Fields Retirement Home, the private nursing home where Gabe worked. Between the two businesses was Lily Dale Lane. As they rounded the corner of Prosperity and Lilly Dale, they passed the Smith home. A large, two-story, white house. 

Several tents could be seen in the back yard. “Looks like the Smiths are getting ready.”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded. “They were putting tents up when I went for my run this morning.”

They passed the Frieling’s house. It was similar to Sam’s, but with tan siding. He noticed the address number on the mailbox. “Why is the Frieling’s address 8.8, but yours is 1-15? What’s with the periods and dashes?” Castiel asked.

“No idea. The house numbers here make no sense at all. The Carrigan’s are 3.8. The Whittaker’s is 6.9. Then this house,” Sam pointed to the one the woman had come from the other night, “is 11.16.”

“Peculiar,” Cas noted. Like much of Charming Acres.

“Yeah. I don’t get it.”

They went into Sam and Gabe’s house, finding Gabe hard at work in the kitchen making macaroni salad. “Hello, Gabe.”

“Hey, Cassie,” Gabe muttered, all his attention on the pasta he was mixing. “I shoulda done this earlier.”

“I offered to help,” Sam said, looking into the large mixing bowl.

“You go get ready,” Gabe groused. 

“Gabe! It’s gonna be fine!”

“I can’t compete with these robots, Sam,” Gabe frowned, scooping mayonnaise into the bowl.

Sam laid a hand on Gabe’s wrist, stilling his arm. “It’s just a picnic. Your macaroni salad is always a hit. It’s going to be fine.”

Cas cleared his throat. “I can finish it, Gabe. Go get ready.”

Gabe turned his worried eyes on to him. “No...”

Cas pulled the bowl toward himself. “I remember your recipe.”

Gabe sighed. “You sure? Don’t forget the -”

“I got it,” he laughed, moving to take over Gabe’s work.

“Thanks,” he sighed, letting Sam pull him by the hand out of the kitchen.

The ingredients were already all out, so he continued adding to the bowl, folding everything together.

The back door opened, and Dean came in covered in sweat. All he had on were jeans and boots. His t-shirt was stuffed into his back pocket, hanging down like a work rag. It showed stains of black grease. His hands were grimy, and his jeans were stained with grass and grease.

He was absolutely, drop-dead, fucking gorgeous.

“Uhhh, it’s so fucking hot out there,” Dean said, going straight to the sink.

All Cas could do was stare as Dean flipped the faucet on and began washing away the grime. The muscles in his back flexed and his ass wiggled with how vigorously he washed his hands and forearms. He could drink him in like smooth whiskey.

“That mower that came with the house is a piece of shit. I doubt it will last the summer. I got it running, but that carburetor needs replacing.”

Cas found himself staring, wishing Dean always talked so much. And so freely. He always seemed kinda quiet. He knew he was funny. Gabe told him stories that always made him laugh. But the few times they had been around each other, Dean had been reserved. The brief glimpse of how playfully funny he could be was on the porch several nights ago when the four of them were watching the neighbors sneaking around, which had been so much fun.

“By the way,” Dean went on, splashing water onto his face, then scrubbed it dry with his shirt. “Your neighbor lady down the road is a bitch. Not Melanie next door, but the lady that yells at her daughter all the time. That kid of hers is gonna grow up and fuckin’ -’’ he turned catching sight of Cas standing there. “Ho! Shit! Cas!” His startled green eyes went wide. “I thought you were Gabe!”

Cas, completely having forgotten why there was even a spoon in his own hand, grinned. Dean was flushed and his chest was still heaving. He had a light dusting of freckles that had popped out from being in the sun. There were more on his shoulders. His broad, muscular shoulders. His hands gripped the t-shirt like they could handle gripping and lifting quite well. Cas bet they were rough and would feel so fucking good dragging down his inner thigh. He swallowed hard as his eyes jumped back up to meet Dean’s.

“Gabe had to...go get ready.”

Dean nodded, going quiet.

Dammit.

Cas pushed the macaroni further back on the counter. “Can I get you a glass of water?”

“No,” Dean shrugged. “I can...get it.”

Cas grinned. Dean was shy.

That was not the impression he had from Gabe. Dean was mouthy and instigated all sorts of shit. He was a deckhand on a crabbing boat, doing one of the world’s deadliest jobs. He was a badass. And all that may be correct too. But watching him now, seeing how caught off guard he was...well...things were making sense. Perhaps Dean’s quietness was shyness. Particularly around him. If that were the truth, he really had a new avenue to explore. A spark of curious hope kindled within him. He turned back to his work at the counter as Dean moved around him quickly to get a glass, ice, and then water.

His curiosity got the better of him as he watched Dean getting water from the fridge.

“You gonna wear that to the picnic?”

Dean’s shoulders stiffened. “No. I gotta go get a quick shower.” Even as he spoke, he started heading toward the back stairs that went up from the kitchen.

“I wouldn’t go up there yet,” Cas cautioned. “Gabe and Sam went up there not too long ago and they had that...look.”

Dean groaned, stopping in his tracks.

Cas chuckled. “I guess you’re familiar with that look as well.”

Dean turned around, his cup hovering over the table as if he was contemplating sitting down.

“While you wait,” Cas jumped in, “you can taste-test the macaroni salad. Gabe seems suddenly nervous about meeting all the neighbors.”

When he glanced back, Dean’s glass was on the table and he was pulling a chair out to sit down. Cas turned back to his mixing, grinning.

“Gabe, nervous? I don’t think I’ve seen him nervous since the wedding.”

Cas had to laugh at that. “He was convinced Sam would change his mind and leave him at the altar.”

“Sam was so dopey in love. Shit, he still is. Wild horses couldn’t have dragged him away.”

Cas thought back on the day fondly. “That was my impression as well. But that last twenty minutes before the ceremony, Gabe nearly paced a hole in the rug.”

He finished mixing the huge bowl and tasted it. Gabe should be quite pleased. This batch had turned out quite well. He pulled out a clean spoon and got a spoonful. He daydreamed of feeding it to Dean. His lips closing around the spoon and his pink tongue flicking out to lick his lips as he groaned with pleasure. His eyes opening to look up at him. Cas would bend down and kiss him, deep. He would taste the macaroni right off his tongue until the two flavors were one and the same.

He tamped down his libido before turning around and crossing the kitchen. “Try this,” he said much less seductively than during his little vision.

Dean took the spoon, their fingers brushing against each other briefly as it transferred from his hand to Dean’s. Incredibly short of his fantasy...yet exhilarating all the same.

Dean had an exquisite mouth.

Why was he not gracing the cover of every magazine? He could star in any role! Model any product! How was the world not hounding down his door, following his every move? He had never in his life, in all his travels, met someone so effortlessly gorgeous.

“That’s good,” Dean said. He did get a little ‘mmm’ and a grin when he held up the empty spoon.

Cas grinned as he glanced up, hearing Gabe and Sam laughing from upstairs. “They must be out of the shower.” He looked down to find Dean staring up at him.

Oh damn.

They stared for a whole minute. He wanted to let Dean know that he was interested in him very much. He wanted to kiss him, take him to the picnic and parade him around like the trophy he was. He wanted to sweep him off his feet and buy a house together and wake up next to him.

Whoa.

He cleared his throat, turning back to the counter.

“I’m gonna go get a shower,” he heard Dean mumble. His chair slid out and suddenly the kitchen was ten degrees colder and so, so lonely.

He covered the salad and put it in the fridge before going to the living room to wait on everyone.

Twenty minutes later, bowl in Gabe’s hand, smile on Sam’s face, Gabe’s hand in his, Dean keeping a low profile, they all left the comfortable ease of Sam’s house and went two doors down to the Smith’s house.

“Front door or just go around back?” Sam asked.

“Well! How are you boys doing?” Ed Carrigan asked, coming up behind them with a tray full of tiny sandwiches.

“Good,” Sam answered easily, squeezing Gabe’s hand.

“Well, isn’t that swell!” Ed grinned. “Picnic is this way!” He went around them, along the side of the house.

“Here we go,” Gabe muttered.


	3. A Good, Old-fashioned, Neighborly Picnic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our boys are meeting all the neighbors. Lots of familiar faces coming your way! And...is there a little flirting in the air??? Why, yes there is! (And it’s not just the frisky neighbors!)

Chapter 3: A Good, Old-fashioned, Neighborly Picnic

“Do we need a safe word?” Dean muttered close to Sam’s ear.

“A safe word?” Sam laughed. “This is a picnic, not The Alamo.”

“Moist,” Gabe suggested, staring around the crowd with wide eyes. “Ya know, like, wow, this hotdog is moist. Then I’ll get you out of there. Same for me.”

Dean nodded as Sam exchanged a look with Cas. “I thought you two were the party animals. Cas and I are the quiet ones!”

“That’s with normal people,” Gabe explained. “These are robots and we don’t understand the rules.”

“Exactly,” Dean hissed.

By now they were fully into the crowd, all four of them nodding with grins that varied from purely plastered to easy-going.

“Sam!” A man in a yellow and white striped shirt with jeans and rainbow suspenders came toward them with a huge grin.

“Sully?” Sam said with surprise. Dean and Gabe stepped to the side as the man hugged Sam like they were best friends.

Sam, belatedly, and looking a little confused, hugged him in return before stepping back. 

“Gabe!” Sully cheered, hugging him next. Gabe looked out-right horrified as Cas stepped in to rescue the toppling bowl of macaroni salad.

“He’s a hugger!” Gabe managed, patting the man’s back.

“He’s a hugger,” Sam grinned nervously. “Dean, Cas, this is Sully,” Sam made the introductions. “He’s my mentor at work. Or will be when school starts.”

“Yeah,” Sully said with a happy, dreamy look. “Sam’s awesome! He’s going to make SUCH a good counselor at Charming High!” His head nodded emphatically; in case his words weren’t expressive enough.

“Sully is the counselor for Charming Elementary,” Sam explained. “So, he has the kids and I get the teenagers.”

Dean, Gabe, and Cas nodded in understanding.

“It’s a tiny school district. Just the two buildings, so Sully and I make up the entire counseling department.”

“Wow,” Dean said, so much more going on behind his playful smirk that he was, thankfully, not sharing with the group.

“Sully, this is my brother, Dean. And this is Gabe’s brother, Cas.”

Sully stepped forward, hands lifting to hug Dean, who stepped back, cocked his head, and held a hand up with a lopsided grin. “Whoa there, Mork from Ork.”

Sully’s smile barely faded before turning to Cas, who frowned and simply said, “No.”

Sully nodded his understanding as a group of kids ran up to him.

“Sully! Sully! Will you play Marco Polo with us?”

“Sure!” He nodded, running off with two girls and a boy. “Catch ya later, Sam!” He stopped in his tracks. “Oh, unless you wanna play!”

“No, that’s okay,” Sam nodded.

“Moist, moist,” Gabe whispered.

“Stop it,” Sam scolded, taking his hand again. “You’ve met Sully before. You knew he was like that.”

“I swear it’s amplifying,” Gabe countered, plastering on a grin as Justin and Cindy approached them.

“Gabe! Sam!” Cindy smiled. “So glad you could make it! Welcome to Charming Acres!”

“Thanks,” Sam grinned, forcing it.

“I bet these boys need a drink!” Justin said, patting Dean on the shoulder awkwardly.

“Oooo, martini?!” Cindy offered.

“Uh, sure,” Sam nodded. “Gabe?”

“Yeah. Two.”

“Oh!” Cindy laughed.

“Ya have beer?” Dean asked.

“Shucks,” Justin frowned. “I don’t think we do! Martini?”

Dean forced a grin. “Yeah. Sure.”

Cindy blinked at Cas with an expectant smile. “Martini?”

“I’ll have one as well,” Cas stammered, handing her the bowl of macaroni salad.

“Oh! You didn’t have to bring anything!” Cindy frowned her eyebrows unnaturally high.

“Oh, it was the least we could do. You guys went to so much trouble,” Sam said. 

“Four martinis coming right up!” Cindy whisked the bowl away, her dress flaring out and swishing just as jauntily as her ponytail.

“I smell grilling meat,” Dean said, heading toward a smoking grill (and a quiet shady place to sit, Sam suspected).

“He just ditched us,” Cas said incredulously.

“He’s good at that,” Sam warned.

“I am so getting him back for that,” Gabe muttered.

“Well, there seems ample material for making him suffer,” Cas said, eyes scanning the large, flat, perfectly manicured yard.

Dean circumnavigated the grill entirely, eyeing the fence line.

“Hey there,” a brown-haired man said, coming toward them. “We haven’t met yet. I’m Gary. I live next door to you with my wife, Deb.” He pointed to a pretty woman with a heart-shaped face and long, thick brown hair, who waved at them. She said something to the woman she was talking to and headed their way. 

Sam introduced himself, Gabe, Cas, and pointed out Dean, who waved from afar.

“So, you live in this house?” Gabe asked, pointing to the house between the Smiths and their own.

“Yep. That’s our place,” Gary nodded.

Gabe eyed the picnic table in the Frieling’s backyard and turned back to Gary, biting his lip. Sam was sure that he had just put together that Gary was Gary Frieling, and also the man making out with the neighbor lady from across the street. And Deb was the one who snuck in a house down the road.

“I just started working at Charming High,” Sam said, cutting off any chance Gabe had of making a comment about the night-time affairs. “And Gabe is working at Sunset Fields. What do you two do?”

“I work at the local bank,” Gary said, “but I just invested in the plans for a shopping center to be developed.”

Sam nodded. “Nice!”

“I teach second grade at Charming Elementary,” Deb smiled, shaking their hands. They slipped into some small talk about Sam knowing Garth and moving to town. They had just started to question Cas about working overseas when several women approached.

“Oh!” Deb grinned, “Sam, Gabe, Cas, this is Naoki and Olivia.”

“Hi!” Naoki smiled. “We live in the tan house across from the Smiths. My daughter, Kat, is the one with really long, brown hair that’s playing over there.”

Sam nodded. He recognized the blonde, Olivia, as the woman who had been making out with Gary at the picnic table several nights ago. 

Gabe was smirking now. 

“Have you met the Carrigans yet?” Olivia asked.

“We did,” Sam assured her.

“They’re a little gung-ho about Christmas,” Gary said quietly.

“They’re sweet,” Deb laughed. “Ed always plays Santa for the kids, and Madge does an excellent Mrs. Claus.”

Gary didn’t look quite as convinced but didn’t argue. Sam could see Ed and Marge heading their way with the other couple that lived next to them. Naoki and Olivia waved, heading over to a large table full of food that Dean was already picking at.

“There they are!” Ed boasted. “All the way from Texas, I hear!”

“Hello, Gabe!” Wayne Whittaker said as the two couples joined him and Gabe. Cas had slipped away from them. Sam couldn’t help hoping he and Dean ended up getting cornered since they deserted him and Gabe so quickly.

“Hi, Mr. Whittaker,” Gabe answered.

“Please, just Wayne is fine,” Wayne grinned, shaking Sam’s hand with a weak, dead-fish type grasp. Sam wiped his hand on his shorts (inconspicuously he hoped). “Welcome to Charming Acres! Safest town in the USA!”   
Sam grinned with a nod. “Gabe works at Sunset Fields,” Wayne explained to the others. “He’s our new maintenance man, and he’s doing a fine job.”

Gabe and Sam exchanged a smile.

“Well, look who decided to show,” Wayne’s wife Nellie said, leaning close to Madge.

“Well, well,” Madge smiled. But something about her smile belied her pleasure at seeing whoever it was. Sam turned, following her gaze. A man with a beard, jeans, a tan t-shirt, and a trucker style ball cap was heading toward the food table with two bags of Doritos and a bag of Cheetos. 

Madge and Nellie exchanged a look of disgust. 

Sam watched as another man came behind him carrying a small cooler. 

“Bobby! Bobby! Come get this thing!” The man yelled, sitting it on the ground at his feet.

Sam took a few steps toward him. “Need a hand?”

The man turned to him; his face lined with creases that hinted at a life lived quite fully. “I don’t know you,” the man frowned.

“Jeez! Were you ever nice?” Bobby snapped, coming toward him.

“1985.” The man declared. “Worst year of my life.”

Sam stared at the two men in amusement, starting to grin.

The bearded man turned toward him. “Hey. Name’s Bobby. Bobby Singer. This here’s Rufus.”

Sam shook both their hands. “Sam Winchester. My husband, Gabe, and I just moved in two houses down.”

“Welcome to the neighborhood,” Bobby said, smirking. Sam was not sure how much the man meant it. It came across as a bit of a warning more than a welcome.

“My back,” Rufus frowned. Sam jumped in, grabbing the cooler.

“Where did you want this?” He asked, heading toward the food table.

“Back at my own porch, preferably,” Rufus said under his breath.

“Over here,” Bobby pointed, looking thoroughly finished with his friend.

“You guys live around here?” Sam asked.

“We’re the outcasts,” Bobby said quietly. “We both live back Singer Lane.”

“Oh,” Sam nodded. Singer Lane was the narrow road across the street that ran between the house Olivia, Naoki, and Kat lived in, and the Whittaker’s. Unlike the pristine, sidewalk-trimmed Lily Dale Lane, Singer Lane looked more like a secluded back road, thick with trees, poorly paved, and with many pot holes. “I started to jog back there the other day, but I thought it might be private property, so I turned around.”

“It is private property,” Rufus assured him.

Sam nodded. Okay, no invitation there. And both of them looked like they might greet him with a shotgun if he came near it again.

“There’s good,” Bobby directed, pointing along the fence in a shady spot under a cherry tree. Sam sat the cooler down. 

“It was nice to meet you,” he said, looking back to check on Gabe. He winced when he saw Gabe surrounded by the Whittakers, Carrigans, and Frielings. “I better get back there. I left Gabe...”

Bobby was peering at the group Gabe was in as well. “Yeah. They devour first and ask questions later.”

Sam wondered at the statement but didn’t ask.

“Want a beer?” Bobby offered, pulling the lid of the cooler up and pulling three beers out.

“Sure,” Sam grinned, taking one. “Well, we live two doors up from here if you ever want to stop by.”

Both men nodded and Sam made his way back to Gabe. Cindy had arrived with a tray of martinis and Sam took one of those too.

******************************************************

Gabe fought the glare he wanted to unleash on Sam. Not only had he jetted off so gallantly...he had a beer! 

“Melanie, dear!” Madge waved. “Come meet these nice gentlemen!” She leaned toward Gabe. “She’s a nice single woman. Works too much. She just needs a nice young man.”

Gabe lost his look of faux niceness. “Well, I’m happily married. But I’ll be sure to let someone who cares know.”

“We’ve met,” Sam added, also giving Madge a more matter-of-fact look.

Melanie Golden, wearing denim shorts and a gingham plaid top, brought a much-needed air of normalcy to the little crowd that had gathered around him and Sam. She waved at them, walking a large bowl of sliced watermelon to the table. Another woman was with her. Her black, curly hair springing from a yellow wrap around her head that matched her yellow top. From the way she glanced around at the crowd, like they were weird, Gabe thought there might be hope for her too.

“Who’s her friend?” Gabe asked.

Madge and Nellie exchanged a look before Madge smiled overly friendly. “I believe that’s her friend and co-worker. They travel a lot.”

“So, friend?” Sam clarified “or...”

“They’re just friends,” Deb answered, Madge and Nellie heading to the patio. “We all went to school together. That’s Camille. She moved here when Melanie and I were in elementary school. They’re...well, psychics. They travel around and give psychic readings.”

So much for normal.

“I did see the sign in her yard,” Sam added.

“You did?” Gabe decided he needed to go for a walk around this weird place and get a better lay of the land. “How did you not mention that?”

Sam shrugged. “Never thought too much about it. Our dad had a friend like that. Missouri Mosley. She was the real deal too.”

“There’s a bake sale at the local fire department next weekend,” Cindy chipped in. “We’re raising money for the statue of Mayor Harrington! You fellas should bring some cupcakes!”

Sam nodded. “Sure! We could do that.” He shrugged a shoulder at Gabe, who nodded back. Whatever made his Samshine shine. 

He glanced across the busy yard, seeing two men talking by the grill. The kids were sitting in the grass listening raptly to whatever the hell Sully was talking about. Dean was managing to socialize with Melanie and Camille, Bobby, and Rufus. Dean always did manage to gravitate toward the grouchiest of people. He wasn’t sure who looked grumpier though, Bobby or Rufus.

Cas was eating little pastries and nodding along to whatever the over-dressed couple he was standing with were talking about. The man was wearing a suit and the woman was wearing a red dress that looked like something you wore to a fancy cocktail party. The woman rolled her eyes and walked away, another woman joining her as they went off to the side.

“That’s Maggie Stark,” Deb whispered after Madge and Nellie moved on. “Her husband, Don, is talking to your brother over there.”

“Maggie does not look happy,” Gabe muttered, downing the rest of his martini.

“The Starks live in the big house at the end of Lily Dale. They tend to...fight a lot. I heard that they’re separating.”

The two women hugged, joining the men at the grill.

“That’s her friend, Sue. She lives on our side of Lily Dale Lane, just before the Stark’s.”

Gabe nodded, watching as the woman, also over dressed in a black dress and heels began yelling at her daughter, who looked to be around seven, wearing her light brown hair in pigtails.

“Sue is definitely a yeller. That’s her daughter, Zoe. She’s always hounding that poor kid about something or other.”

Gabe nodded, watching as Maggie and Sue stepped off to the side again. This time, Maggie was glaring at Cindy Smith, who was standing with Madge and Nellie.

“What’s with the death glare?” Gabe asked, finding Deb just full of juicy details.

“I’m not sure. Cindy works for Don. She’s his assistant.”

“Huh.” Was Cindy assisting Mr. Stark with too many things? A dirty image of the two in an office flitted away as soon as he looked at Cindy. Yeeesh. He couldn’t imagine that eerie grin ever looking sexy. And Justin had just gone to the Starks last night for something.

“Deb!” A man grinned, the pair kissing each other on the cheek in greeting. 

“PJ,” Deb grinned, suddenly taking on a flirtier stance, “this is Gabe and his husband, Sam. They just moved in earlier this week.”

“Hi,” PJ said, shaking their hands with a half-interested grin. “I live across the street, down by the Stark’s.”

Gabe glanced between the two. So...this might have been who Deb Frieling was going to visit the other night. He was definitely picking up on some flirty vibes between the pair. And if that were the case, while she was sneaking out, her husband was sneaking Olivia over. “Gotta say, I’m having a hard time keeping everyone straight!”

Sam grinned, knowing exactly what he was talking about. 

Deb stepped back, her flirty vibe dropping instantly. “Oh! Hi, Linda. Gabe, Sam, this is Linda Berman, PJ’s wife,” she said stiffly, “and their daughter, Maddie.”

“Hi!” The little girl waved at them.

“Hi!” Sam and Gabe said back, grinning down at her. 

“I’m eight and I’m going into third grade!”

“You are?” Sam chuckled. “That’s a big year!”

“I know!” She laughed, nodding big. She turned to her parents. “Mommy? Can I go play?”

“Sure,” Linda smiled.

“Come on, Sparkle!” The little girl ran to join the others as her mom watched and PJ looked at his watch.

“Sparkle?” Gabe asked, wondering if there was a dog he hadn’t seen.

Linda sighed. “Sparkle is Maddie’s imaginary friend.”

“Oh,” Gabe and Sam both nodded.

“Her doctor says it’s perfectly normal during...” her eyes flitted to PJ and back to them as she re-smiled, “during childhood.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed easily. Gabe was sure Sam knew a shit-ton more on the subject.

Linda gave PJ a meaningful look before smiling back at them. “It was nice meeting you!” The pair walked away, PJ giving Deb a little wave.

Deb stepped closer to Gabe. “They’re getting counseling. There’s no way that marriage is going to last.” She gave them a polite grin before heading over to the food table.

“Holy shit!” Gabe exclaimed under his breath.

“I know,” Sam agreed.

“Deb is banging that PJ guy!”

“Looked that way to me,” Sam muttered.

“And talking shit about his marriage!”

“Yep.”

“And did you see the blonde chick is here?”

“Olivia,” Sam said, beer poised in front of his lips.

“Yeah!” Gabe sighed, staring around the picnic. “Dude. I need paper and a pen. This shit is getting complicated.”

*********************************************************

Dean laughed hard, clutching his beer as not to drop it. Bobby and Rufus were killing him! The pair were two of the grumpiest old men he had come across and funny as hell. They both lived on Singer Lane, Rufus’ place was behind Naoki, Kat, and Olivia’s house, but Bobby’s was further back, more secluded in a patch of woods. The pair seemed so different from most of the Lily Dale Lane inhabitants.

“Never did get a single bite of that peach cobbler,” Bobby went on to end a story about him and Rufus dealing with the neighbors.

“That’s a shame,” Rufus deadpanned. “It was good.”

“Jackass,” Bobby muttered for not the first time.

Dean laughed again, shaking his head.

“Your friend is lookin’ kinda trapped over there,” Bobby nodded toward Cas, who was standing by the grill listening to Gary Frieling, PJ Berman, and Justin Smith talk around the grill. He had a slight scowl on his face as he watched Ms. Dowling pluck another tiny sandwich off of a tray and make her way over to Sam and Gabe, her hips swaying and a big, bright grin on her face.

“Yeah.” Cas turned, looking right at him. Dean waved him over. “That’s Cas, Gabe’s brother. He’s good people.”

“Beer worthy?” Bobby asked, code for: was he someone Bobby would like.

“Definitely,” Dean grinned as Cas excused himself from the little group and came toward them with a look of relief, stopping short as three kids ran past him. Sully stopped him, looking like he was inviting him to play some game with the kids, which Cas was politely declining.

He arrived at the group with a guarded look of exhaustion. He smiled at Dean with a look of thanks, making Dean want to fucking backflip. “You looked like you needed to be rescued,” Dean grinned.

“I did,” Cas sighed. “Thank you.”

“Bobby, Rufus, this is Cas.”

“Nice ta meet ya,” Bobby said, shaking his hand.

Rufus gave him a curt grin and little head nod. “You’re just visiting, right?”

Cas’ shoulders relaxed a bit. “I’m thinking about moving here, but...”

Bobby chuckled. “But it’s a strange damn place, right?”

Cas gave them an apologetic grin. “All places have their...quirks.”

“Mm. We got a whole street full of ‘em,” Rufus nodded, eyes darting around the yard. “Even the miniature sized people.” His eyes followed the kids, playing some sort of tag game with Sully, without any actual touching.

“Cas is a nurse,” Dean said proudly. “He just got back from Japan.”

“Really?” Rufus said, actually interested.

“Ohh,” Bobby grinned. “Nihon wa ikagadeshita ka?”

Cas grinned. “Utsukushī kunidesu. Itsuka mata modotte mitaidesu.”

Dean gaped. Why was everything Cas did so fucking hot? “You speak Japanese?”

Cas grinned again. “A little.”

Dean melted at the warm grin from Cas. For an astounding moment, it felt like just the two of them were alone. It had happened earlier in the kitchen at Sam’s too. And both times a zip of giddiness filled his system. He’d like to know a whole lot more about this guy. And then his sparkling blue eyes were on Bobby.

“When were you in Japan?” Cas asked.

Bobby blew out a breath, eyes rolling toward the brim of his hat as his head wagged back and forth in calculation. “Musta been...twenty-five years ago.”

“I was fortunate enough to be a home-care nurse for a patient that was fairly wealthy. They spoke English, so I often had to communicate with the doctor and the pharmacy on my own.” He grinned wryly, seeming to remember something that had happened. “They were all a pleasure to work with, making it probably one of my favorite, and most difficult, assignments.”

“So...the wife was sick?” Bobby asked.

“Sadly, their son. High school age. He came so close to graduating.”

“He died?” Rufus asked, shocked.

“He did,” Cas nodded sadly. “I specialized in hospice care during my last three assignments. It’s one of the reasons I’m looking for a change.”

“Well, this place is lively, that’s for sure,” Bobby said. “There’s always somethin’ going on. Bake sales, festivals, town meetings,”

“Picnics,” Rufus added. “Fairs, neighborhood potlucks,”

“Progressive dinners,” Bobby cut in, “charity events,”

“And that’s BETWEEN the holidays,” Rufus clarified.

“It sounds...” Cas stumbled for words.

“Exhausting,” Dean finished, earning an amused smirk from all three of them.

“Definitely ain’t my cup of tea,” Bobby bitched. “Speakin’ of tea, you want a beer, Cas?”

“Please,” he nodded.

Dean grinned. Cas was in. It seemed you didn’t just get handed a beer from these two. No. They had to accept you first. And Cas was in.

“You go to all these town events?” Dean asked, finding it curious that the two were here at all.

“No,” they both answered flatly.

Dean chuckled, drinking his beer. “What are ya doin’ here then?”

“Business,” Bobby and Rufus said darkly, both staring out over the picnic crowd like there were piranhas in the waters.

Dean had no idea what that could mean, but he didn’t ask. He did get a quick, curious glance from Cas, who also didn’t ask.

“They seem to need some instruction about barbecuing burgers,” Cas mumbled.

Dean focused on the men standing around the little round grill. Gary, empty plate in hand, Justin, spatula in hand, and Don Stark, arms crossed over his chest were politely arguing about something. The burgers, ignored by all, were burning.

Dean fought not to march across the yard and take over.

“Eeeevery year,” Rufus said, shaking his head in outright judgement.

“Guess everything isn’t quite as perfect as it looks on Lily Dale,” Dean grinned.

“Boy, that ain’t the half of it,” Bobby muttered.

Gary was losing his battle to keep up a pretense that they were only talking and not arguing. Don Stark didn’t look bothered a bit, but Justin was glaring at Gary.

“I think those burgers need rescuing,” Cas said, nudging Dean’s elbow with his.

“Yeah...I’m on it. But only because there’s beef involved.”

*****************************************************

Castiel followed Dean to the grill. The three men standing there clammed up immediately at their arrival.

“Hey,” Dean grinned, devastatingly charming as he so easily was.

“Burger?” Justin grinned, scraping one off the grill.

“I think these are ready for the table,” Gary said, holding the platter for Justin to put them on. Don Stark meandered away, and Gary and Justin avoided eye contact.

“Got any more patties?” Dean asked.

“I sure do!” Justin grinned, getting back to his familiar level of pep. “I’ll go get them!” He left quickly, Gary turning away with a plate full of burnt beef discs.

“No amount of ketchup is going to save those,” Cas said, earning a chuckle from Dean. He stepped even closer, smelling fresh shampoo and a trace of beer from Dean. “I overheard Olivia and Gary making plans to meet at the park across from Moonlight Diner tomorrow to have ‘their own little picnic’.” He knew he was gossiping, but any excuse to lean this close to Dean was a thrill. And the closer he got, the deeper Dean’s blush crept. It was adorable.

Dean’s brow quirked. “As in...the Moonlight Diner attached to Moonlight Motel?”

Cas nodded conspiratorially. 

Dean took a swig of beer. “Interesting.”

Justin arrived with a platter of raw patties.

“Mind if I take a stab at it?” Dean asked.

“Well, golly fellas! Wouldn’t be right to put you to work!”

Cas took the platter. “We would be happy to.”

He turned to Dean, asserting himself as his assistant. Dean picked up the tongs and began putting patties on the grill. “You go mingle, Justin. We got this.”

“If you’re sure, fellas,” Justin grinned.

“We’re sure,” Cas and Dean grinned back. The man nodded, heading over to hang out with Wayne Whittaker and his nosy wife. Dean took the last of the top layer of burgers off the platter, putting them on the grill, raised the grill height by three inches, and closed the lid.

Dean leaned in closer to him. “Bobby said he and Rufus are here on business.”

“Seems to be a lot of that. Justin and Gary are in business together. Something about a shopping center. But more than that, these people have a penchant for sleeping around it would seem.”

Dean nodded. “Especially the married ones.”

“Sam and Gabe seem to have made some friends,” Cas commented. Their brothers were nodding along, listening to Deb, Olivia, and Naoki talk about something amusing.

“So...you’re thinking about moving here?” Dean asked, no trace of teasing in his voice.

Cas nodded, looking at Dean. “I am. Now that Gabe and Sam are settling down, I would like to be...close.”

Dean nodded, shying away from him a little. “Yeah. I was thinking the same thing.”

“Really?” It had slipped out with surprise and warmth, Cas looking at Dean in a new light. The light of possibility. They might have a real chance at something if both of them were sticking around.

Dean’s eyebrows jumped and a smile stuttered across his lips. Dean laughed a little, his cheeks pinking at the response. “Yeah, uh, it’s...time.”

Cas, trying to put Dean back at ease, took a half step back, looking down at the grill. “I know you told me you were done fishing. I just didn’t realize you were planning on living close to Sam.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, more confidence to his tone as he lifted the grill lid to flip the burgers. “Family, ya know? When you think about where to make home...permanent...it really boils down to where your family is.”

Cas watched Dean’s confident hands turn the burgers with ease. He also might have noticed how deliciously his hips tipped while he worked, and just how well his jeans fit, holding every curve so right. As the lid closed and the smoke puffed out around them, Cas scolded himself for drooling so blatantly over Dean.

When they had met at Sam’s graduation, Dean was insanely adorable, bragging and so evidently proud of his brother. At the time, Cas was traveling a lot and though he found Dean incredibly attractive, he had no intention of hooking up with someone who might someday be family. 

At the wedding, he had been nervous, finding Dean very grounding and once again preoccupied with Sam. They had more time to interact, but they were only alone once, in the waiting room while Sam finished getting ready for the ceremony. Honestly, he barely remembered the entire weekend. His and Gabe’s family had been a nightmare about the wedding and Cas was doing his damnedest to shelter Gabe (and Sam and Dean) from all of it. Gabe’s decision to include their family had been kindhearted and ill-timed. Needless to say, he’d been so distracted and worried, he had little more than passing fancies of Dean as they went through the events of the weekend. Most memorable had been the wedding party dance. He had danced with Dean. While he had easily taken the lead, it was Dean who initiated conversation. It had been very brief and neither of them seemed to have a lot of words, but it had dramatically improved Cas’ outlook. With the simplest smile, those warm hands, and his gentle ‘Don’t let your parents ruin the day. Our brothers are meant to be. Look at those two. They’re so freakin’ happy, they’re oblivious’, said just for him alone, Dean’s breath tickling his ear...Well, it had been enough to pull him from his frustration and remember to enjoy the day. Though he would have pursued more from Dean, he knew he was leaving the next day and so was Dean. Again, he wasn’t hooking up with Dean. They were family now.

And here they were today, surrounded by a sea of people who were rooted into lives that took place here. And if they were both staying, there was no way Cas was letting any opportunity be missed. He liked Dean. A lot. In some ways, he already loved him. In the way that someone is so good to someone else you love that your love just sort of seeps across lines and extends in the knowledge of them. Dean had paid for most of Sam and Gabe’s wedding. He sent them huge gifts. He brought them to Alaska more than once to visit. And he accepted and even loved Gabe, which was no simple thing. Gabriel could be...a lot. He was casual about it. But he had been on the phone with Gabe one time when Dean was leaving from visiting the pair. He’d hugged Gabe and said he loved him. Like family does. Like good family does. 

There had been so many times over these past few years that he saw (or heard about) the tender side of Dean Winchester. And though he was a deckhand braving the Bering Sea, tough as nails, bad boy Dean Winchester, he had not missed how Dean blushed and fumbled and got quiet around him.

Knowing Dean was staying close to family was the final straw. Something about the trickling build of adoration and being around him these past few days had him thinking of Dean night and day since he’d arrived here. And he suspected it would not take much of a push to get Dean past his shyness. He also knew he needed to move carefully. They were family. And there was something very substantial to be gained, he suspected, if he and Dean could get on the same page.

“Cas, can you bring me the platter?” Dean asked, eyes all for the grill and burgers now.

“Of course.” He handed him the plate of raw burgers, passing him a bit closer than really was necessary, and retrieved the plate from the food table, now half empty of burnt discs.

They swapped plates and Dean seemed pleased with the burgers. And with his assistant too. He was eager to please, holding exchanged platters again and putting the delicious smelling burgers on the table. He returned to Dean like a magnet, Dean easily making use of him. It was simple and mundane and a bit Lily Daleish, and it kept a grin on both their faces.

All too soon, the burgers were done. As Dean piled the last one on the platter, Cas quirked a grin at him. “Think anyone would notice if we left with a couple of these?”

“I would,” Melanie said, surprising them both.

“Busted,” Dean grinned at him.

“They smell delicious,” she grinned, hands in her back pockets and eyes dancing between the pair of them.

“Double busted,” Camille grinned, joining them. “We finally got good burgers. There is NO chance of escape now.”

“We saved you seats,” Melanie added, taking the platter from Cas. “It was Madge’s idea, but not all her ideas are so terrible.”

Cas watched as the two took the platter to the big table and began making burgers. “I think we’re trapped,” he whispered.

“I think we got lucky, considering our odds.” Dean nodded toward a table where Sam and Gabe were eating with Ms. Dowling, Ed, Madge, Justin, and Cindy.

“I’m just gonna put it on the record,” Cas muttered, stopping Dean from taking a step, “that if you ditch me, I know where you sleep.”

Dean’s grin warmed ten shades. “You -”

“I know where you keep your toothbrush and I have it on good authority that your password to your phone is BABY.”

Dean’s jaw dropped. “Well...I’m on you like glue.”

Cas grinned triumphantly, not sure which option presented more thrill: Dean at his side all day or getting into his things to prank him.

“Didn’t know you were so vindictive,” Dean chuckled, picking up a plate to start loading it with the assorted food. 

“You forget I grew up with Gabriel. We don’t get even…”

“We escalate!” The pair finished together, laughing.

Castiel was glad to see Dean relax and be more like himself as the lunch progressed. Bobby and Rufus joined the four of them, making it quite a comical meal.

As an older, jovial looking man and a woman who appeared to be his daughter, joined the picnic, Cas watched with interest as 70% of the crowd perked up like lemmings.

“Who’s the grand-poo-bah?” Dean asked quietly.

“That’s Chip Harrington and his daughter, Sonny,” Melanie explained. “They run Harrington’s.”

“Is that the place with the giant milkshake in front?” Cas asked.

“Yep,” Camille grinned. “You have to get a milkshake. They’re fantastic.”

“He’s also the mayor,” Melanie added.

Dean and Cas both looked mildly surprised at that. “Does he live on Lily Dale Lane?” Cas asked.

“No, probably just stopping in to meet our newest additions to town,” Melanie explained.

Dean and Cas exchanged a curious look, then watched as Ed and Madge Carrigan introduced the Harringtons to Sam and Gabe.

“The mayor greets everyone who moves to town?” Dean asked, watching him with open suspicion. 

“Yeah,” Camille nodded, taking another bite of potato salad.

Sam, Gabe, the Carrigans, and the Harringtons started heading their way.

“Shit,” Dean muttered, wiping his mouth.

“Pops!” Some of the kids called, running up to hug him. He patted their heads and moved on with a huge grin, heading straight for them.

Cas stood as Melanie and Camille stood also to politely say hello. 

“Weeell!” The man said boisterously, “Chip Harrington! Most people just call me Pops.” He shook their hands firmly. “Welcome to Charming Acres! Safest town in the USA!”

“Thank you,” Cas nodded, Dean nodding behind him. 

“I hope to see you gents at the soda shoppe! First milkshake is on the house!”

“Thank you,” all four of them said.

He turned to the crowd at large and grinned. His kindly grandpa vibe certainly fit in with Charming Acres. “Sorry I can’t stay, folks! But you know the soda shoppe will fall apart without Sonny being there!”

A general chuckle broke out in the crowd as his daughter, a pretty young lady with brownish-red hair also in a jaunty, swinging ponytail, smiled sweetly.

“Hope to see everyone at the bake sale next week!” He waved around to the crowd, others returning it cheerfully. He left with a gaggle of people following him to the side of the house.

“He’s like a celebrity,” Dean murmured.

Castiel wondered. The entire town seemed slightly off. Too friendly. Too bright and clean. Only flashes of reality dirtied the picture from time to time. To his surprise, Bobby and Rufus were among the followers that straggled along the side of the house. Perhaps their ‘business’ was with the mayor.

It was nearing six o’clock before they finally headed home, everyone’s dishes neatly packed into containers or baskets. They thanked their hosts and Cas did not miss Dean gaining several new numbers to the contacts on his phone. He, too, had gotten Bobby and Melanie’s numbers, but he certainly hoped Melanie and Camille weren’t banking on getting a date when they gave Dean their numbers. 

HE intended on being Dean’s first date in Charming Acres.

As they left the picnic, following Gabe and Sam, it was all he could do not to reach over and take Dean’s warm hand in his. 

Gabe turned around, walking backwards. “You two,” Gabe pointed with both hands, “SUCK as wingmen.”

“You seemed fine!” Cas chuckled.

“The burgers were moist!” He counted on one hand, “The taco salad was moist! And how did I describe the watermelon, Sam?”

“Moist,” Sam chuckled.

“I didn’t catch that,” Cas grinned, swatting Gabe giving him the finger. “Did you hear any of that, Dean?”

“I did not. My burger was delicious,” Dean grinned.

“As was mine!” Cas grinned at Dean. “Grilled by the master.”

“Ugh!” Gabe turned, slipping his hand into Sam’s.

“Oh, by the way,” Sam grinned, looking over his shoulder, “Ms. Dowling thinks your comings and goings are ‘hinky’.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “That infernal woman. I hope you set her straight.”

Gabe laughed, glancing up at Sam as they went up the porch steps.

“Sam!” Cas declared, not used to Sam not having his back. 

As Gabe unlocked the door, Sam turned to him with a grin. “Guess if you would have been there, you coulda defended yourself.”

“Touché,” Cas chuckled. “But I was chasing Dean. If you want to be mad at someone for ditching you, be mad at him.” He winked at Dean, who suddenly looked twice as interested in the conversation.

Sam laughed, glancing between the two. “Yeah...okay.”

Cas held the door for Dean, grinning at him as he walked by, catching his eye in assurance that he had meant what he just said.

Dean went in, some sort of comment on the edge of his lips as he quirked a grin and went inside.

This was going somewhere. And if he read Dean correctly, it wasn’t going to take long.


	4. Wink If You Believe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas is developing a winking habit.
> 
> Dean combats his nerves with whiskey.
> 
> Not all the neighbors had such a great night after the picnic. For someone on Lily Dale Lane, it was their last!

Chapter 4: Wink If You Believe 

After the picnic they all crashed for a nap. Eventually they collected around the kitchen table, sipping coffee and catching up. Sam was amused with his brother. Dean had finally confessed to him yesterday that he was shy around Cas. That he had the hots for the guy. He was starting to loosen up around him, which made all of them more comfortable. Dean asked him to keep it a secret and Sam agreed. Gabe could make it torturously awkward if he knew Dean had a crush on his brother. They were better off figuring it out on their own. And by the looks Cas kept giving Dean, Cas already had things figured out. What was more amusing, was watching his badass brother squirm with shyness. So, he let the events between the two unfold on their own. Watching them navigate around each other was way more entertaining than anything he’d seen at the picnic.

All the sitting and talking led to munching, which led to poker. Poker led to whiskey. And now they were all half drunk and had been playing for three hours.

Sam poured another two (ok, four) fingers of whiskey in Dean’s glass, laughing as Dean slid it away and back to his own eager hand. “You can keep liquoring me up, Sammy, but you’re still gonna lose.”

Sam grinned, refilling Cas’ drink and Gabe’s before refreshing his own and picking up his cards for the next hand. “I know all your tells, Dean. It’s Cas that I can’t read for shit.”

Cas’ grin tipped just slightly at one corner of his mouth, his blue eyes reading over the five cards in his hand with efficiency. 

No comment. Sam grinned down at his own cards. “Nothing is wild?”

“Straight, Sam. I know you’re unfamiliar with the term,” Dean smirked, tapping his cards into a neat stack. There was no jump in his jaw or extra gleam to his eyes. Dean had a shitty hand.

“Ha ha. I learned from the best,” he countered. He didn’t have shit either.

Gabe leaned forward, drilling his eyes into Dean expectantly.

“I’m in.” Dean slid one poker chip to the center. “Raise you five dollars.” He slid another chip into the center of the kitchen table. His brother was always in for a gamble. Even when he didn’t have anything to play.

“Mm,” Gabe grinned, lollipop stick tweaking up and down between his lips. “I’m in, raise you ten dollars.”

“Fold,” Sam sighed, laying his mess of cards down.

Cas slid one chip in. “I’m in.” He slid three more into the center. “I’ll see your raise and I’ll raise you another twenty-five.” He slid several more chips to the center of the table. So far, Cas was winning. His stack continued to grow while the others dwindled.

“I’m out,” Dean sighed, sitting back with his drink.

Gabe grinned harder. “You and me, little brother.”

He slid his last red chip and another four blue in. “I’ll see your twenty-five and raise you twenty more.”

Cas and Gabe stared at each other with matching tenacity. If Cas raised much higher, he could wipe Gabe out completely. Cas tossed two blue chips to the center. “I call it.” He laid down a pair of aces, a pair of threes, and a four.

“Fucking bastard!” Gabe swore, laying his cards down. One pair of eights. “Nobody gets two pair on stud poker!”

Cas chuckled, scooping the pile toward himself, stacking his chips neatly.

“Did you guys think it was kinda weird that the mayor came to the picnic today?” Sam asked, sipping his whiskey.

“Very,” Cas answered darkly.

“A Stepford mayor to control the Stepford inhabitants? No, not fishy at all,” Gabe shook his head, gathering cards and shuffling.

“Sam,” Dean said seriously, slumping in his chair a bit as his cheeks held a pink glow, showing he was about half tanked, “this place is Crazytown. I feel like I have the crazy ON me!”

“You do,” Cas grinned, reaching for Dean’s shoulder, plucking an imaginary crumb. “There, that’s better.”

“No, no, no,” Dean grinned, leaning a bit toward him, eyes sparkling like he was holding five aces. “Like...everywhere. Like I bathed in it.”

Cas ruffled his hair, the pair laughing. “Better?” Cas asked.

“Much,” Dean grinned, sitting back with a huge blush now. Sam chuckled at the pair. He was so glad the four of them were finally together.

“And who else finds it completely unnerving every time you’re told this is the safest town in the USA?” Gabe asked, raising his hand high. Cas and Dean immediately raised their hands.

“What?” Sam laughed. “Come on! They’re proud! And they should be proud. It’s a good thing to be safe.”

“I don’t feel safe,” Dean proclaimed.

“Something is hinky in Crazytown,” Gabe swore.

Sam looked at Cas, who gave him an apologetic, but knowing look. “It is rather unnerving.”

“Uuughhhh!” Sam groaned. “Ya know what? It’s not this town, it’s you three. You’re damaged.”

All three murmured their agreement with that but stuck to Charming Acres motto needing to be stricken from the local’s daily vocabulary.

“I about lost my shit when Deb introduced us to PJ and Linda Berman!” Gabe guffawed, cards coming to a halt in his hands as he stared around at them all.

“What?” Dean asked. “Why is that weird?”

“If you had hung around,” Sam interrupted, “you woulda seen what Gabe and I saw. PJ Berman is the guy Deb was sneaking off to see the other night.”

Dean and Cas both looked intrigued. 

“It was soooo obvious they were fucking,” Gabe went on. “And Deb was kinda snotty introducing PJ’s wife, Linda, and their KID.”

“Oooo,” Dean scowled. “Not cool.”

“Yeah,” Sam admitted, not near as entertained. “And the kid’s imaginary friend.”

“No trouble in paradise,” Dean said, shaking his head.

“Oh, like your crab boats were so innocent,” Sam scowled.

Dean’s face lit up. “But we knew we were a buncha shady assholes! We didn’t hide it behind frilly dresses and neighborhood picnics.”

“No,” Sam bantered, feeling slightly protective of his new home, “they hid it behind burly beards and thermal waders.”

“Hey,” Dean leaned forward, all serious now, “there’s a science to cramped spaces and both men dressed in five layers of clothes. It ain’t for the faint of heart.”

Gabe and Cas laughed, Sam shaking his head and poorly fighting a grin. “You’re a pig.”

“I was single on plenty of those long outings to sea,” Dean blushed, sitting back. “People have needs.”

“Apparently so do a lot of our neighbors,” Gabe laughed.

“Well, they all seem pretty accepting of gay men moving in,” Sam added.

“Some,” Gabe nodded. “The others still refer to us as brothers.”

All four of them chuckled at that. “Talk about twisted morals!” Gabe laughed. “They think Maddie has imaginary friends now, wait until she realizes the ‘brothers’ down the road are married!”

Sam shook his head. Okay, so Charming Acres wasn’t perfect. He didn’t need perfect. Just...nice. Nice would be nice.

************************************

Gabe shoved his pants down, flopping back onto their bed. Whiskey always made him feel so warm and fuzzy. He kicked his sneakers off, with a giggle as the bathroom light clicked off and Sam came to sit next to him on the bed. He kicked his feet, but his shorts stayed tangled around his ankles.

“Are you sleepy?” Sam asked, all soft brown eyes and warm hands as he ran one up the length of his short torso.

“M so sleepy,” Gabe giggled again, arms flopping out to the sides. Sam bent over and kissed his stomach. He grinned wide and shifted his hips. “You might have to do all the work.”

Sam chuckled deep and low, getting up to lean over him, plying his lazy tongue with a thorough kiss. His hand reached between them, feeling his hardening cock in his boxers.

Sam pulled back, leaning onto one elbow. “You sure? I can let you go to sleep.”

Gabe shook his head no, grinning at how topsy-turvey it made him feel. “I wanna have sloppy, drunk sex. We’re married. It’s legal.”

Sam kissed him with a chuckle. “Then you just lay there, and I’ll do aaaaaalllll the work.”

“God, I love you,” Gabe sighed dreamily, petting Sam’s hair before his head disappeared. “Please, you make me so fucking horny.” He gasped at the way Sam’s huge hand stroked him. It was hard to say if he would take extra-long to come or if he’d come quick. Whiskey could be unpredictable like that.

“Such a nice, hard, whiskey-dick you have going here,” Sam whispered, firming his next few strokes enough to make Gabe gasp.

Sam yanked his boxers down. The jostling had Gabe’s eyes open, watching his husband. He was wearing boxers of his own and nothing else, hair falling into his eyes, but Gabe could still see the firm set to Sam’s jaw. Ohhhh, that was his Sammy’s tell. He was gonna get fucked. Hard.

Gabe giggled as he was flipped over onto his stomach, his feet nudged into place on the floor. He knew he wouldn’t be in this position for long. Their height difference wouldn’t allow for a good line-up if they were both on their feet. He would be up on his knees before too long.

He settled into the bent-over position, arms stretched out wide and a joyful grin arching his brows as Sam slid finger after finger inside him to work him open wide. Sam gripped one ass cheek, clenching and massaging it around in a circular motion as he slid three fingers inside him. The grinding slide and circling ass cheek always got Gabe revved up like nothing else.

“Come on,” Gabe panted, trying to pull a knee up and speed this along. He was throbbing hard and already grinding his ass. Sam chuckled low. Gabe’s feet were trapped by his own shorts and boxers. He pulled his arms in, pushing up.

“Thought you were just gonna lay back and let me have my way with you, Gabriel,” Sam teased.

“Makin’ me crazy,” Gabe whined. “Swear I’m gonna get loud if you don’t hurry up!”

Sam moved his leg and Gabe could finally work one foot out of the merciless tangle of shorts. His knee crested the top of the bed and he sank back onto Sam’s hand, hard. “Saaaaam!”

Sam gripped his hips firmly and lubed them both as he fumbled his other leg up onto the bed, backing his ass out as far as he could without falling off the bed. His head was hazy and needy, and he rocked against Sam’s working hands until Sam gripped his hips tight and fed himself deep inside him.

So happy. So full. Gabe relaxed into a slumping mound, open and ready, ready, ready.

Sam moved him wherever he wanted him, fucked deep and hard into him, pummeling him so efficiently that Gabe came in a tipsy haze. Sam shifted, driving deeper with less focus on his prostate, driving himself until Gabe felt the unmistakable hot gush of Sam’s orgasm. Sam bent over him, kissing across his shoulders until he slid out and turned him over again. Gabe knew his kiss was sloppy and mostly a ridiculous grin, but it was all so good.

He lay like a rag doll while Sam got him cleaned up, he giggled and attempted to help as Sam tucked them both into their covers, and murmured a very soft “I love you” as he drifted off to sleep.

**********************************

Dean took refuge on the front porch, escaping the soft sounds of his brother and Gabe upstairs. Cas was setting up a bed on the floor of the living room. He grinned at the thought of Cas sleeping so close to him but being alone with him was bringing out his shy, awkward side. He could swear Cas was flirting with him at the picnic. THAT possibility had him kinda shaking in his boots. Luckily, the alcohol was damping his awkwardness and giving him a little liquid courage. He sipped his final whiskey for the evening and let his eyes adjust to the dark night, sitting on the porch swing. 

The front screen door opened with a light creak and Cas stepped onto the porch, beer in hand. “I don’t know how you sleep in the same house as them.”

Dean chuckled. “Headphones.”

Cas grinned and came to sit on the chair near the swing. He slouched into it with a sigh and propped his ankle on his knee, the beer dangling from his long fingers.

Dean wondered what those hands might feel like. He’d shaken his hand before. He could recall the warm, firm grasp from the wedding weekend. His eyes drifted up from Cas’ hand, finding him staring right back at him with a quirking grin.

“What!” Dean said, startling slightly at getting caught. “I was just...daydreaming, sorry!”

Cas hummed a warm little note as he raised the beer to his lips and took a sip. “Hope it was a pleasant one.”

Oh very, Dean thought, sipping his whiskey, and keeping his wandering eyes on the ice that clinked in the glass. “So...you like the Dowling House?”

Cas scoffed. “It’s very...clean. Ms. Dowling runs a tight ship. A very pink, tidy, old-fashioned, tight ship.” The long statement was followed by another sigh. “Let’s just say, I was looking forward to tonight for more than one reason.”

“What reasons?” Dean asked softly, enchanted by Cas’ company.

Cas looked at him and sat up a little straighter in the chair. “The company, for one. Tonight was fun. I like being able to hang out with you guys.”

Dean bit his bottom lip, unable to stop watching him as the soft light from the streetlights gave his skin a warm glow. 

“And frankly, I’m tired of beef roast. Ms. Dowling serves the same dinner every night. And as good as it smells and as much as I appreciate it, she overcooks the roast every time!”

Dean chuckled at his look of bemused annoyance.

“The gravy is very salty. And the roast requires a lot of gravy because of how dry it is!”

Dean chuckled a little harder.

“And Brussels sprouts. Every night!”

“Not Brussels sprouts!” Dean laughed.

“I LIKE Brussels sprouts!” Cas laughed, throwing his hands wide. “But these are...bitter! And dry! How do you even make Brussels sprouts dry?!”

“I don’t know, man,” Dean laughed, finding him adorable.

“They’re like...little...tumbleweeds!” Cas went on, laughing.

“Well, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Dean sighed, wiping a tear from his eye, chuckling one more time before sipping his whiskey again. “Sam said she’s really nice.”

Cas’ previously propped foot stomped to the porch. He leaned forward with a glare that made Dean simultaneously breathless and laugh. “She LOVES Sam! ‘That nice, tall young man?’.” He mocked. “You should see how she talks to me versus Sam!”

Dean was laughing again. “I’m so sorry, man! You need back-up? I got your back, dude!”

Cas sat back with a wide grin, ankle re-settling onto his knee. “Oh yeah? Tomorrow night you have to come have dinner with me.”

“Yeah!” Dean laughed.

Cas grinned, settling back into the chair quite comfortably. “You’ll see.”

Dean licked his lips, glancing out to the street before looking at Cas again. “Sam coming to this dinner?”

“Fuck no,” Cas scoffed. “If Sam comes, she’ll be nice as pie. You need to see how she talks to me!”

Dean chuckled again. “Aw, how could she be mean to you?”

“I don’t know,” Cas grinned adorably. “She’ll probably love you too. Freaking...gorgeous Winchesters. Making the rest of us schmoes look so average.”

Dean stared at him with a frozen half grin.

Cas winked.

Dean blushed, closed his gaping mouth, and sat back. He looked at his drink, grinning. “Okay,” he chuckled, wishing he had something to fidget with. He glanced out to the quiet street and then back at Cas. Then it dawned on him that he was going to Cas’ boarding house for dinner. Was that a...date? No. They were laughing. They were kidding. It was just for fun. So why the wink? Winks weren’t for fun. He was flirting. But he had winked at him at the picnic too. And when they got back from the picnic! Maybe Cas just did that. He was just a...winker. The word made him giggle.

“What?” Cas asked in an adorably, rumbly little voice, already grinning hard.

“Winker,” he chuckled, lips looser than he meant them to be.

“What?” Cas laughed.

“You!” Dean sighed; his thoughts were just fuzzy enough to know he really needed to shut up. “You’re a winker!” 

Cas laughed just as hard as he did, until they both simmered into sighing, smiling, slumping stupors.

“I meant those winks,” Cas assured, meeting but not holding Dean’s eye.

Dean, a laugh just a breath away, leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, mildly aware he had just dribbled whiskey onto his bare foot. “Whiskey toes,” he mumbled.

Cas leaned forward, glancing down at Dean’s feet. “That’s a party foul, Dean.”

Dean’s eyes jerked up from his feet, locking onto Cas’. God. He loved when Cas said his name. “Okay, winker,” he grinned hard.

Cas’ amused grin settled into a glare that held no heat whatsoever. And then he winked.

“See!” Dean pointed. “You gotta be careful winking those eyes! I mean...they’re so blue. And...long lashes.” Oh, someone stop the babbling, he thought desperately. “It’s like a super power.”

“Oh yeah?” Cas asked, quiet and with a really interested grin.

“Yeah,” Dean said entirely too dreamily. “And!” Oh, he needed a fucking cork to stuff in his mouth! “And, you said I was gorgeous.” Oh fuck. He had the whiskey babbles.

“I did,” Cas grinned, his eyes steadily on Dean.

“You aren’t even drunk, are you?” Dean wondered.

Cas shook his head no, slowly.

“Oh shit.” Dean stared at him because...fuck! He was seriously staring material. 

Cas’ grin ticked up a notch higher on one side. “Don’t worry. I won’t hold you to any promises.”

Dean grinned. He was so friggin’ cute. “I keep my promises,” he said quieter. “I’m not that drunk. We’re going to dinner. Just me and you.” His thick, lazy tongue licked his lips in slow motion. “Just me and you.”

“And Ms. Dowling,” Cas grinned.

“Ooohh,” Dean frowned. “She’s a bitch, being mean to you.”

Cas looked so fucking amused with him.

“Okay, so after dinner, we’ll go for milkshakes.”

“Yeah?” Cas asked, egging him on.

Dean nodded with a cocky grin. Yep. They’d go out. “On a date.”

Cas’ eyebrows raised. “Absolutely.”

“I knew it!” Dean sighed, sitting back on the swing. “I knew you meant date.” His eyes fluttered shut. “So sleepy. But tomorrow I’ma be so excited.” Because I’m going on a date. A fucking date with fucking drop-dead gorgeous Castiel Novak. Fuck. “Gorgeous.” He chuckled at himself. “So cute.” Cas was so cute. And warm. Dean snuggled down a little lower, just knowing his hands would be warm. “And strong.” 

“Dean,” Cas said gently. “Let’s go in. Before you fall asleep.”

Dean waved his hand, then stared at it, wondering where his drink went. “I’m good.” He closed his eyes again, head dropping back. “I’ma jus sleep here.” So good. The rocking swing and the warm night air. He groaned as his world tipped and he was suddenly standing, face to face with Cas. Oh wow...this close he was just...“you’re grinning,” he grinned, smiling down at him. “Stop it. It’s not fair.”

“Not fair?” Cas chuckled, getting Dean moving by supporting him under one arm. 

“Yeah,” Dean sighed, stumbling along through the front door. “You’re too fuckin’ cute.”

“Oh yeah?” Cas grinned. Their mouths were close enough. If Dean got on his feet better, he could kiss him. “Since you’re being so sweet, you get the couch.”

Dean slumped down onto the couch. He smiled as Cas covered him up. “You gonna tuck me in?”

“Yes, I am,” Cas whispered, his magically blue eyes sparkling down on him for just a brief minute. Dean’s hopes skyrocketed and then Cas stood up, turning the lights out.

“Thought he was gonna kiss me,” Dean chuckled. His thoughts danced merrily for several seconds. Cheerful little thoughts of sweet kisses and warm hands and sparkling blue eyes. 

And then he was asleep. Gone from the world of the waking.

***************************************************

“Thought he was gonna kiss me,” Dean babbled just before he started snoring softly.

Cas froze in place, Dean’s words gripping his chest and making him turn to look at his slumbering form on the couch. He grinned and got under the covers he had put together on the inflatable bed several feet away from the couch. He lay down, snuggling into the bed. Dean Winchester was his. Whether he knew yet or not. He was completely smitten with the man. He had discerned his tells at poker. And he now knew for absolute certainty that Dean was interested in him. He all but had it in writing. He snuggled a little deeper, excited for what tomorrow would bring.

***

“Aren’t you two cute?” Gabe smirked. He was standing at the front door in his blue maintenance uniform, hands on his hips.

Cas grinned up at him. “Have a good day at work.”

“Oh, thanks, Mom,” he smirked harder. “I’ll be home by 1:00. I want all the juicy details.”

Cas grinned harder. “We won’t be here for dinner.”

“Oh really?” Gabe’s brows shot up with amusement. “Where will you be?”

“Dean’s coming to have dinner at the Dowling House with me.”

Gabe frowned. “Bro. You can do better.”

Cas huffed a half laugh. “Then we’re going for ice cream.”

“That’s...a fraction better.”

Cas looked over at Dean who was in the exact same position as he fell asleep in. “It’s perfect.”

Gabe’s amused look traveled from him to Dean and back. “Well, you crazy kids have fun.”

Cas grinned, letting his head flop back onto his pillow.

***

Cas woke several hours later, turning over on the frustrating air mattress again. His night had been full of tossing and turning. The blankets had slid from the air mattress long ago and no matter how he lay, he seemed to tip to one side or the other. He got up, heading to the bathroom. He walked into the kitchen and stopped short, grinning.

Dean sat in a chair at the kitchen table, sunglasses on, head tipped back slightly, mouth parted. One hand lay in his lap while the other gripped a mug that was half full of coffee. Sitting at the table with him was Sam.

Sam looked up from his laptop, shooting Cas a lopsided grin.

Cas opened his mouth, but Sam’s grin widened as he held a finger over his lips in a sign to be quiet. Cas tilted his head, narrowing his eyes as he peered closer at Dean. The man was sitting there sleeping.

Cas bit a harder grin, covering his mouth with his hand. “He’s -”

“Sleeping,” Sam confirmed. 

“Wow,” Cas mouthed. He went to the coffee pot, helping himself to a cup of coffee, then silently slid a chair out and sat down.

Dean had not moved.

Sam dipped his pinky into Dean’s coffee and grinned. He slammed his laptop closed, jolting Dean awake, who immediately flung coffee all over himself and the table.

“Son of a bitch!” He snapped, then groaned, and put his head down on the table. Feeling wetness from coffee, he sat up with a face that would rival a toddler about to throw a tantrum.

“Morning!” Sam said loud and clear, sporting a smile.

Dean’s mouth scrunched into a surly frown. “I hate you.”

“Come on, you look like one of the -”

“Shhh,” Dean winced.

“-Blues Brothers -”

“Shhh,” Dean shushed quieter, wincing harder.

“- wearing sunglasses -”

“Sam,” Dean whined.

“- in my kitchen.”

The brothers stared, sunglasses versus brown eyes.

Cas burst out laughing at the pair.

Sam shook his head with a grin. “You’re gettin’ too old to…”

“Sam,” Dean panted, “if you finish that sentence, I swear to God I’ll put Nair in your shampoo bottles for the next ten years.”

Sam grinned triumphantly.

Dean sighed, sagging back into his chair.

Cas got up and got him a glass of water and three Tylenol, putting both on the table in front of him, patting his shoulder before sitting down again.

“I don’t need Tylenol,” Dean fronted, sliding his sunglasses off to reveal two bloodshot eyes.

Cas sipped his coffee, amused with the pair of them.

“God...I do need it. I’m seeing flashing lights,” Dean winced, sliding the glasses back on.

Sam and Cas looked to the kitchen window. “No,” Cas said quietly, “we see them too.” They got up, heading to the window. They couldn’t see anything but the side of the Frieling house, red and blue lights flashing against it. They exchanged a look before both headed to the front door and stepped out onto the porch. A police car sat in the Frieling’s driveway, lights finally going off.

As the officers approached the Frieling’s front door, Cas and Sam stepped back inside.

“I wonder what’s happening over there?” Sam said quietly.

Cas shrugged. “I didn’t hear anything going on.”

They both stopped in the kitchen doorway. Dean was slumped onto the kitchen table again, sleeping, coffee cup gripped in one hand.

“He’s ridiculous,” Sam chuckled.

He was adorable. Even hung over.

**************************************************

Dean had needed a power nap to recover from his whiskey. He also made a mental note to limit himself next time. He remembered talking to Cas last night on the porch, but then things got pretty hazy.

“Dean!” Sam called from downstairs. 

Dean stepped out of the bathroom and came down the steps. “What!”

“Oh, did you fix the drain in the bathroom sink?” 

“Sure did.” Dean sat the toolbox back in the closet and washed his hands. “It looks good.”

“Thank you for doing that,” Sam grinned, patting his shoulder. “What do you want for dinner? I was gonna make fish but figured you wouldn’t want that.”

After years of fresh-caught fish, straight from ocean to grill to plate, every fish he ate in the lower 48 was subpar. “No. I have plans, actually.”

“You do?” Sam pulled a salmon fillet out of the fridge. “With whom?”

Dean bit his bottom lip, drying his hands. He turned to watch his brother. “Cas and I are eating at the Dowling House.”

Sam grinned.

“What?”

“That’s good!” Sam said quickly, busying himself with unwrapping the fillet. “Sounds fun!”

It did sound fun. Like...way more fun than it had a right to sound. He watched Sam work for several minutes before he finally voiced the burning question in his mind. The same question he’d woken up with and thought about all day. “So...does that sound like...a date?”

“Yeah,” Sam grinned harder. “It would definitely be a date.”

“But...he could be just inviting me out as a friend,” Dean countered, seriously not wanting to handle the night wrong.

Sam pulled a knife out of the knife block and began cutting the long fillet into smaller strips. “It’s definitely a date, because when I asked him what he wanted to do tonight, he said he had plans. That he had a date.” He looked up with a knowing grin, surely seeing the blush that was heating his face.

“He did?” Dean stammered.

“He did. I just didn’t know his date was you.”

“Shit!” Dean half laughed. “I better get ready!”

He grabbed his bag from the living room and bounded up the steps and back to the main bathroom. Shitshitshit! How did this happen so fast? How did it happen at all? Cas had been complaining about dinner and he’d said something about backing him up and...this was a DATE?!

“He said we’d go for milkshakes!” Dean blurted to himself in the mirror, the hazy memory just surfacing. “Ohhh...shit...I’m the one that suggested we go for milkshakes! I did that!” An elated laugh burst out of him. He hadn’t been this excited in...forever! Castiel Novak was a ten in every department! Hot. Smart. Funny. A good person. The kind of person that stopped to help people along the side of the road. A nurse. Caring. Dean grinned as he got into the shower. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about going out with him, but now that he knew for sure that he was, he was full of an excited nervousness. Mid rinsing shampoo from his head, it dawned on him how big this might be. This didn’t feel like when he and Aaron had gone out for the first time, and that was the most serious relationship he’d ever managed to string along. And that is exactly what he had done. Strung Aaron along. They both knew it. He liked Aaron. They met at a bar, had a hook-up and then Dean left for a six week run. He’d be lying if he said he never thought of the guy while he was away, and they did text a few times when Dean was able to have service, but he’d been floored when he arrived back to Dutch Harbor and Aaron was waiting for him on the docks. The gesture had honestly taken his breath away. The feeling in his chest that coiled up and made his heart swell had lasted long enough for the two of them to stay together his entire two weeks back on land. The next time he came to port, Aaron was there again. They moved in together. And that was when Aaron got the shits about him being gone all the time. And how was Dean supposed to say he just liked having someone to come home to? They had never even used the ‘love’ word. It had been dysfunctional and had left him wondering if he was even capable of having a decent relationship.

Dean sighed and rinsed, wishing the weight of his memories went down the drain like his body wash. Aaron had been...convenient. And though neither of them was heartbroken over their ending, Dean still felt like it was a failure on his part. The guy had wanted to love him. But so far, he was unlovable. As he turned the water off, he pressed his hands over his eyes and over his head to wipe the water away. Today was a new day. If he let himself, he could have something more now. Sam was settled. Gabe was going to be here for Sam. And he had finally had enough of the sea. Enough self-isolation. He felt pretty damn grounded, even if it did end up being in this weird-ass town. As he dried himself off, he brushed off his past mentalities and shrugged on a new attitude. Cas was, okay CAS was out of his league, but dammit, he could give it a try.

After changing his shirt three times, he came back down to the kitchen dressed. Sam was making some complicated looking salad with a lot of ingredients. “Hey Sam, I know you’re gonna tease the hell out of me for this, but you gotta take me shopping.”

Sam turned from cutting miniature corn cobs, giving him an amused, if not confused, look. “What kind of shopping?”

“For clothes. If I’m gonna date somebody as hot as Cas, I’m gonna need to up my game. My clothes have all been through hell and it shows.”

“Your clothes look just fine,” Cas assured him, stepping into the kitchen with a grin.

Oh, fucking shit on a stick twice roasted! Dean damn near gasped as his stomach dropped. Cas had heard him! SO not how he wanted this evening to start!

“Didn’t see you there!” He stammered, blushing as Sam started chuckling.

Cas grinned, leaning on the doorframe and shoved one hand in his pocket. He looked like he was IN a photo shoot. His jeans were clean, new, stylish. He wore a button-down rust-red shirt that was open to a charcoal t-shirt. Hot-damn he looked good.

Dean, on the other hand, was standing like a frozen deer in the kitchen, beat up sneakers, jeans with three holes (one at each knee and one small one at his back pocket that he’d double checked didn’t show through to his boxers yet), and a black CBGB t-shirt that had a grease stain on the left side near the bottom hem. 

His brain completely stalled. Whatever suave persona he had planned on attempting was completely blown. 

“Cas,” Sam stifled his next chuckle, “can you give us...a minute?”

Cas’ eyes danced over Dean, his smile never slipping. “Sure. I’ll be on the porch with Gabe when you’re ready, Dean.”

“Okay,” Dean said three octaves higher than normal and half choked.

As Cas walked away, Dean closed his eyes in defeat.

“Dude!” Sam came at him with a look of worry. “Are you okay? Is this too soon? I mean if you aren’t over Aaron yet -”

Dean’s face scrunched into a bitchface, his hands waving the quiet words away. “That isn’t it! He’s just so...and I’m so NOT. Ya know?!”

Sam stared at him in bewilderment. “Um...no?”

“Uuuhhhggg!” Dean pulled a chair out and sat down. “It has nothing to do with Aaron. Aaron and I were over months ago. This is different! This is...Cas!”

Sam sat down, scrutinizing him with that ‘counselor’ look he got sometimes, making Dean squirm inside. “Dean...I didn’t know you liked Cas that much. I mean...you guys barely know each other.”

“I know! But I do, ya know? He’s been around for years. I know about him. His picture hangs in my bunk when I’m at sea!”

“What?” Sam guffawed.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist. The picture...the, the, the picture from your wedding! You, me, Gabe, Cas. It’s one of my favorites,” he finished quietly.

Sam sat back a little, pressing his mouth together with his big forehead crinkled. “Okay, so...you kinda know him. You’ve known of him and met him a few times. And you’ve been harboring a crush on him.”

“Do I look like I’m twelve?” Dean snapped, getting pissed because...feelings!

“Um.”

“Sam, so help me, if you start shrinkin’ my head!”

“Dean, calm down.” Sam sat back further with a huff and an eye roll. “Okay, so, you like him. And he must like you too. So...go out and have fun!”

“Fun?” Dean said, like the word was poisonous. He leaned forward, pinning Sam with a serious look. “I can’t just ‘have fun’ with him. He’s like...the real deal.” Sam’s brows lifted and his forehead crinkles rearranged into a look Dean did not want to interpret. “And...he’s family. I can’t screw this up or - one, Gabe will kill me, two, you’ll be pissed, and three, it could ruin the whole family thing we got going here!” Dean stood up abruptly and paced over to a window.

Sam was staring at him with some shock. “Dean...you aren’t going to ruin our family.”

“Oh yeah? You still in touch with any of my exes? Cause I sure am not!”

“Cas isn’t like that.” He stood up, coming closer and lowered his voice. “Look, just try going on a DATE. This isn’t a marriage interview. Maybe you hit it off, maybe you don’t. But either way, it’s worth finding out! Don’t you think?”

Dean twisted his mouth with conflicting thoughts. Fuck. “Yes,” he said sharply. “I’m just...”

“Freaking out,” Sam said with a mix of amusement and confusion again. “It’s just Cas. He’s a nice guy. Don’t be a dick and he won’t be one either.”

Dean stared at him. “It’s just that simple?”

“It is!” Sam laughed, slapping his shoulder. “Come on! Where’s my cocky brother?”

Beaten by the sea, Dean thought sorely. Getting old and realizing just how little he had to offer.

Amusement drained from Sam’s face. “When did you become such a worrier?”

“This is who I am! Something goes wrong, I feel responsible! Lindbergh baby? That’s on me! Unemployment? My bad!”

“Dean!” Sam said in shock, looking like he had no idea what to say.

“What? I freak out about shit too!” He took a deep breath, calming himself down. He did not need to bother Sammy with all the drama shit that floated around in his head.

“Hey,” Sam nudged him again, “you want me to go tell him you aren’t up for it tonight?”

“No,” Dean said miserably, feeling nauseous. He rubbed a hand over his stomach.

“Butterflies?” Sam grinned wide.

“More like angry beavers.”

“Okay,” Sam said energetically, “he likes to talk about work. Bees. You guys are both moving here, so you have that in common to talk about. Be a gentleman and don’t forget to be positive.”

“What?” Dean scoffed, not particularly open to taking dating advice from his baby brother.

“You know, if you complain about something, say something positive! That way you don’t look like you’re a grouch.”

“I am a grouch,” he mumbled, frowning as Sam propelled him through the kitchen and toward the front door. 

“Relax and have fun! Just be yourself only...more chipper!”

Dean swatted Sam’s pushy hands away just before he stepped out the front door, trying his damnedest to pull off a look of cool, calm, and collected.

Gabe and Cas both turned to him, Cas grinning. 

“I feel like I need to take pictures!” Gabe grinned broadly.

“Gabe,” Sam warned, making Dean roll his eyes.

“Are you ready?” Cas asked, ignoring everyone but Dean.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I figured we could just walk,” Cas began.

“That’s perfect,” Dean said more awkwardly than he would have liked, doing his best to ignore Gabe and Sam’s observant eyes.

“You kids have fun now,” Gabe insisted with a huge grin as they stepped down the porch steps.

“Be home before midnight!” Sam called next, making Dean want to strangle his brother.

Cas turned back to their brothers with a grin and must have flipped them off because Sam and Gabe both gasped ridiculously.

“That is not how I raised you!” Gabe said dramatically, making Cas chuckle beside him.

They passed the Frieling house, Cas seemed relaxed as ever, but Dean was wound up so tight his jaw was starting to ache. But Dean had been making every step count, taking deep breaths, and repeating to himself that this was all fine, and it was just Cas.

“Hope you are a fan of pot roast,” Cas said, bumping Dean’s elbow with his and grinning.

“I am,” Dean said back, trying to embrace an air of nonchalance. 

“And don’t take any of her snide comments to heart. I swear she thinks I’m some sort of idiot.”

Dean did grin at that. “I’ll just be sure to tell her I’m Sam’s brother.”

Cas gave him a challenging little grin. “I’m sure she’ll love you. Everyone does.”

“Ha!” Dean looked up at the pink Victorian home as they rounded the corner. “There are PLENTY of people I could introduce you to that would say otherwise.”

“I doubt that,” Cas said softly, putting a hand to his back as they turned to climb the steps to the porch. He stepped inside when Cas opened the front door for him and was greeted by doo-whop music, a hardwood foyer with a sweeping staircase and what felt like miles of wallpaper with little flowers all over it.

“Ms. Dowling?” Cas called. 

Dean stepped in a little further, taking in the parlor with mauve carpet and thick floral curtains.

“Ms. Dowling, it’s Castiel, I’m back with Dean.”

Dean shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably.

“Oh!” She came from the direction the dining room, heading for them. “You must be the young man that drives that nice car!”

“I am,” Dean grinned proudly, getting an unimpressed smirk from Cas. He shook her hand, the smell of pot roast filling the air and making his stomach growl in a happy way, for the first time today.

“We didn’t have a chance to meet at the picnic yesterday since some people didn’t introduce us.” Her eyes flicked over to Cas with a slightly scolding look.

She was turning and heading to the dining room before she could see Cas’ jaw drop and his eyes roll. Dean stifled a laugh.

“Have a seat gentlemen, dinner will be ready soon!” She chimed, disappearing into what must be the kitchen door.

“Unbelievable!” Cas scoffed quietly. Something about the entire exchange made Dean finally friggin relax. Cas looked so put-out, that Dean’s nerves relented, and he had to laugh.

“So far, I’m in,” Dean winked, heading into the dining room. The table was set with a white cloth and china dishes.

Ms. Dowling came out carrying a basket of rolls. “Oh, I love this song! Have you heard this album? It’s Bobby Darin.” Her hand went to her chest as a dreamy look swept over her face. She set the basket on the table and bustled back toward the kitchen singing, “Because we’re two of a kind. What’s so wrong with thinkin’ life is a song...”

“Bobby Darin?” Dean frowned. “That record probably came out sixty-five years ago! All this music is from the fifties.”

“All of it,” Cas said quietly, pulling a chair out for him, reminding Dean for the first time in the past several minutes that he was on a date. A really weird date. Dean sat, letting Cas help him slide his chair in. He leaned down next to Dean’s ear and said softly, “Fifties music every day for nearly a week now.”

Chills ran like wildfire across Dean’s neck and shoulder, making him grin and tip his head toward him. He could feel another blush creeping up but fought it. Cas took the seat next to him with a sly grin. The look was enough to melt Dean inside. He needed to get his footing, and quick. He leaned toward Cas, keeping his voice down, “Yeah, well, you don’t have to hear Gabe and Sam every night.”

“Touché!” Cas laughed, turning to look right at him, even though he was leaned in close, putting their faces so close he could see every striation of gray in the dazzling depth of Cas’ blue eyes. 

Breath stolen again, Dean leaned back quickly as the kitchen door swung open and Ms. Dowling came out with a large white platter with a roast in the center circled by potatoes, onions, and Brussels sprouts.

“That looks delicious!” Dean said honestly, grinning even wider when Cas turned a loaded stare at him.

“Well, thank you! You and your brother have such nice manners. Good manners are important,” she said pointedly at Cas.

Cas’ eyes opened a bit wider, giving him a shocked look, but he kept control of his jaw this time.

Dean chuckled. Okay, she definitely had an unfounded grudge against Cas. Cas was ALWAYS polite.

“And morals!” Ms. Dowling went on, sitting down. “You have to have morals.”

Cas, without being prompted, picked up the serving knife and began cutting the roast. “This does look lovely, Ms. Dowling,” Cas said.

“So, Dean, where are you traveling from?” She asked, ignoring Cas as she handed him the basket of rolls.

“Alaska. I was working on a crabbing boat.”

“That sounds...exciting!” Ms. Dowling said, seeming to struggle to find something polite to respond with.

“Yeah. It was pretty fast-paced.”

“But you’re a welder by trade, are you not?” Cas asked, serving Ms. Dowling and then himself.

“Yeah. Did welding on the ships in port until I figured out I could make even more money fishing. Plus, I got paid better because I could haul fish, weld, work on the ship’s engine, and generally stay out of trouble.”

Cas served himself last, giving Dean an impressed little grin. Dean was feeling warm and fuzzy until he took his first bite of roast.

Oh shit. That was dry.

“Gravy?” Cas offered with all the innocence of a hopeful child, which Dean saw through in a flat second.

“Yeah,” Dean nodded, dousing the meat. “Thanks.”

“And your brothers are friends?” Ms. Dowling asked.

“Married,” Dean and Cas corrected instantly.

Ms. Dowling blinked, still grinning. “Right. So...you met through them?”

“We did,” Cas smiled at Dean. “Because we both travel, we’ve had little opportunity to get to know each other very well.” He winked at Dean, bringing the blush back to his cheeks instantly. He was going to ban winking. It should be a new town ordinance.

“Well, isn’t that nice!” Ms. Dowling nodded, humming lightly as she ate her dinner happily.

Dean tried his best to control his face as he chewed a bitter, dry sprout, earning a quiet chuckle from Cas. He swirled the next one in gravy. Better. Or it could be it was just so salty he wanted to believe it was better.

It was a long meal.


	5. Milkshakes Bring All the Boys to the Yard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel’s date gets started!
> 
> We learn a little more about Sam and Gabe.
> 
> And what were those flashing police lights at the Frieling house?

Chapter 5: Milkshakes Bring All the Boys to the Yard

Castiel assured Ms. Dowling for the third time that he and Dean were not interested in dessert. She only relented in her offering of a large Jell-O mold of red and yellow in the shape of a ring when he explained they would be going to Harrington’s for milkshakes.

Having survived dinner and assisted with as much clean-up as Ms. Dowling would allow, Cas directed Dean into the parlor. “Would you like to see my room?”

Dean, looking as relieved as he was to be away from their host, nodded and followed him up the stairs eagerly.

Ms. Dowling said he couldn’t have women up here, but she’d never said anything about bringing another man up. He opened the door to his room and held a hand out for Dean to go first.

“And she says you’re not a gentleman,” Dean said under his breath, walking in. 

Well, he certainly wasn’t thinking very gentlemanly things, if he were being honest, but all he did was lick his lips and close the door behind him.

Dean stood next to his bed, looking around at the green walls decorated with portraits any grandmother would approve of. The room was very simple with a double bed, chest of drawers, nightstand, one wingback chair, and a small writing desk and chair.

“If I’da had a grandma, I feel like this is what her room woulda looked like.”

Cas chuckled. “I would agree with that. My grandmother would have approved. Which is saying a lot, actually.”

Dean had his back to him, looking at a picture of Kevin and his parents which sat on the desk. His finger ran down the pewter frame gently. He picked up the next framed picture with a laugh. “Where was this?”

Cas smiled, stepping up behind Dean to look at it. He and Gabe sat next to a full grown male lion. Gabe looked extremely happy. So did Cas, but Gabe’s grin was so happy it made you smile just looking at it. “Africa. I had Gabe come visit me when I was working in a town near Nairobi, Kenya. The zoos there are quite different than ours.”

“Apparently!” Dean snickered. “Man, you’ve been around the world.”

“This guy,” Cas reached around Dean, pointing to a man squatting beside him, “was one of the doctors I worked with at the little hospital there. He always called Gabe ‘Little Gobo.’”

Dean huffed a laugh, turning a warm grin toward him, exactly what Cas had been aiming for. Encouraged, he rested his other hand on Dean’s hip, not missing the little intake of breath. “And this was Sheri, a nurse I worked with. Africa is amazing.” He let go, stepping back to give Dean room again. Dean licked his lips, setting the picture down gently.

“You, uh, sit here and write letters?” Dean smirked, nudging a curtain tassel so it swung gently.

Cas stepped back another step as Dean turned toward him. “No. I suppose I could send a few postcards out to some friends.”

“Yeah. Help! I’m trapped in the Twilight Zone! Send reinforcements!” They both chuckled at that.

Cas sat on the arm of the chair, watching Dean poke around the room. 

“I was thinking about getting a room here too, but this place kinda weirds me out. Your door wasn’t even locked.”

Cas nodded. “Yeah, when I asked about a key, she asked why on Earth I would need one.” They exchanged a look of shared confusion.

“Safest town in America, my ass,” Dean swore.

“Mm,” Cas agreed, catching Dean’s eye, holding the gaze until Dean looked away with a blushing grin.

“Yeah, I’ll take my chances at Sam’s. Or the Moonlight Motel,” Dean added.

“You’d pass up free dinner every night?” Cas asked sarcastically.

“Dude.” Dean stopped toying with the fringe of a lamp shade to stare at him. “You weren’t exaggerating! Dry! And the gravy was so salty that I’m fucking parched!”

Cas laughed; Dean was just as adorable as ever. Now that he had relaxed, he was just as charming as he figured he would be. “Don’t forget the rules!”

“Oh yeah.” Dean wandered toward the door, turning back to him with an endearing grin. “No ladies up here, right?”

“Right,” Cas said, getting up, feeling the need to be closer to him as they talked quietly. “Something risqué might happen.” He stopped right in front of Dean; their eyes locked into a heavy stare. “Something not quite...gentlemanly could happen.” Dean had little wrinkles at the outer corners of his eyes. A few freckles had popped out from working in the sun. Glints of gold were sprinkled through his brown hair, which was a lighter brown than his own, but almost hinted at being red in some light. His chin had the hint of a cleft that might be a scar, and he was a picture of absolute perfection.

“She pretty much said you weren’t a gentleman,” Dean said softly, the hint of a smile starting before their stare overpowered it into something much heavier.

“But you are?” Cas teased even softer, edging just a little closer.

“Huh,” Dean almost laughed, looking down for the first time before looking back up with an unsure move of his lips. “I’m pretty much a scoundrel, compared to these people.”

“A scoundrel!” Cas grinned wide, capturing his eyes again. Dean had his back against the door now and Cas just realized he had been edging the man toward it millimeter by millimeter. Dean tipped his head with the hint of a cocky grin that the rest of his shy body language belied. Cas reached up, unable to keep his hands away from him any longer, and gently slid his thumb over his chin as he lightly captured it in his thumb and index finger. His jaw was strong and firm. Dean’s hands were in the pockets of his jeans, but his tongue had just slipped out, the tiniest flash of pink wetting his lips. “Scoundrels are merely misunderstood gentlemen.”

“Yeah?” Dean breathed, his smile still flickering with nervousness.

“I really wanted to do this when I met you. And at the wedding,” Cas murmured, taking in every detail of Dean’s face. Their bodies were so close now that Cas’ foot was between Dean’s and only a hair’s width separated them from chest to thighs.

“You did?” Dean grinned, the nervousness settling to something more like pleasant surprise. Yes, that was better.

“So badly,” Cas whispered sincerely. He could read Dean like a menu. He was fronting boyish charm but there was a strong current of nervousness, laced with just a trace of real lust. He could step back right now and pick this up later tonight. Give Dean a little more time to feel the situation out. Or...he could just dive in like every fiber of him screamed to do. He licked his lips, his eyes dropping to Dean’s beautiful mouth one last time, when, just as he was about to step back, one of Dean’s hands sprung from his pocket and gripped Cas’ wrist. And there it was...a look of hope and assurance. Cas tipped his head and dove in for a mouth that had been unattainable for far too long. 

Dean.

Their mouths met with equal give and take, lasting only a few seconds before Cas pulled back and looked at him. His hands were greedily feeling Dean’s shoulder as the fingers of his other hand were quickly making their way to the back of his neck. Dean’s hands were sliding down his sides, gripping onto his shirt. 

The look in Dean’s eyes was pretty clear. More.

He was more than fucking happy to supply.

He wrapped his arms around Dean as he did the same and kissed him again. And again. And again.

After getting a grin in response, he leaned against him and took in the shock of the feel of Dean’s body against his as he opened his mouth for more. Dean followed easily and Cas felt quite sure all the kissing he had done in his life had never even prepared him for the rush of lust and awe that flooded him now.

A knock and sudden twist of the doorknob had their eyes popping open. Dean slid to the side as the door opened and Cas stepped back as to not be clipped by it.

“Just bringing in the fresh sheets,” Ms. Dowling said, smiling obliviously. She set the sheets on the bed and glanced around. “Where did that nice fella go?”

Cas, so startled with the interruption, stood there staring at her for several seconds before Dean pushed the door half closed and stepped out with a perturbed look on his face. “I’m right here.”

Castiel, having had enough of Ms. Dowling for one day, sighed in irritation. “When my door is closed, please have the courtesy of staying out. Manners work both ways, Ms. Dowling.” Her stunned look was enough to make him feel better. “Dean, I think it’s time we actually get this date started.”

Dean’s disgruntled look shifted to a beaming grin. “Sounds good to me.” He followed Dean out the door and down the stairs, the pair of them sharing a proud grin when Cas caught his hand in the foyer, and they left the stuffy confines of the boarding house.

“That was awesome,” Dean snickered. “She makes me feel like I’m in junior high again!”

“I know!” Cas laughed, feeling invigorated by the grip of Dean’s hand in his and the opportunities that awaited them yet tonight. “Sorry about all that.”

“I’m more sorry for that beef she keeps cooking to a second death every night!’ Dean laughed.

People were out walking along Prosperity Road, shopping, pushing baby strollers, and walking dogs. All of them had that oddly bright look about them, waving and nodding as they passed by, heading across the street toward the huge strawberry milkshake in front of Harrington’s.

Dean leaned in a little closer as they passed a family walking together. “You can’t say this place doesn’t give you the heebs and or jeebs.”

Cas nodded, keeping Dean a little closer than necessary as they entered the soda shoppe. The pair exchanged another look as the same doo-whop music from the Dowling House met their ears. The soda shoppe was bright and cheerful with pale yellow walls, black and white checkered floors, and red booths.

“Table or bar?” Cas asked, looking up at Dean as the rest of the weird town faded away into little importance.

“Bar,” Dean grinned. “We’ll see just how great these milkshakes are.”

They took a seat at the bar. Plucking out two menus that were sandwiched between a napkin dispenser and a sugar container, to see what the diner had to offer. 

“Well, ‘bout time we see you fellas here!” Chip Harrington boomed enthusiastically with a wide grin. He wore a white uniform jacket and white folded hat that advertised Harrington’s.

“Hello, Mayor Harrington,” Cas greeted, shaking his hand.

“You can call me Pops, everybody does,” the man grinned, reaching to shake Dean’s hand.

“Evening, Pops,” Dean said, forcing a small grin.

“Two milkshakes?” Chip guessed.

“Please,” Cas nodded. “Strawberry -”

“Strawberry for you,” Sonny smiled broadly, sweeping in with two delicious looking shakes. She set the strawberry in front of Cas. “And chocolate for you!” Sonny beamed a grin at Dean, sitting it in front of him, earning a hesitant grin from him.

“That works,” Dean said, staring at her suspiciously.

She shrugged her shoulders, her red pony tail swinging with a perky bounce. “Heard you boys were on the way!”

Cas frowned. “How -”

“Small town. News travels fast,” she beamed again, rushing away in her pink uniform.

“But...we JUST left like two minutes ago,” Cas said under his breath to Dean.

Dean was surveying the room with an openly critical eye, even more suspicious than before.

“Heebie Jeebies?” Cas asked, glancing around as well.

“Big time,” Dean sighed. They both stared at their milkshakes dubiously. Dean plunged a finger into his, sucking the thick shake from it, making Castiel want to drool. His eyes lit up, then were guarded again as he glanced around quickly.

“Is it good?” Cas asked, fighting a grin at the demonstration of Dean sucking anything.

“Yep,” Dean admitted tightly.

Cas tried his. He closed his eyes as fresh strawberry filled his senses. He licked a trace from his lips before opening his eyes, seeing Dean watching him with the same expression he had worn only a moment ago. “It is good,” he admitted, his voice dropping into something entirely more intimate than milkshakes.

Dean’s grin was cocky, his eyes sparkling mischievously. 

Castiel grinned harder, loving the level of comfort Dean seemed to have attained after just one kiss.

Just one kiss...oh...it seemed entirely more powerful than just one kiss. Dean’s grin softened and he looked away, going back to trying his milkshake. The look of joy as he sucked on the red and white swirled straw was really trying Cas’ ability to stay socially appropriate.

His thoughts were interrupted when Mrs. Whittaker came to the counter. “Evening,” she said tightly.

Castiel mustered a quiet hello as Dean tipped his head in greeting. 

“Suppose you heard about our neighbor.”

Dean and Cas exchanged a quick, clueless look. “Can’t say we have,” Dean grinned. “It does seem to be an entertaining neighborhood though.”

Cas chuckled, kicking Dean’s ankle lightly at his teasing.

“This is no laughing matter,” Nellie said pretentiously. “Seems our Mr. Frieling died last night.”

“What?” Dean asked, all humor gone. “Gary?”

Nellie nodded; lips pursed with her frizzy hair reminding him of an unkind version of Mrs. Weasley. “It was probably his wife!” She whispered. “There’s been problems at home, I’ve heard!”

“Here’s your order,” Sonny said with an air of frost to her wide grin as she pushed a to-go box and cup toward her.

“Thank you, Sonny!” Nellie switched gears quickly, though a trace of nervous energy still lingered. She slid a ten-dollar bill onto the counter and took the items, rushing out the door.

Sonny disappeared to the kitchen again and Cas found himself sitting there staring at his milkshake. “I guess that’s why the police were at the Frieling house this morning.”

“Guess this town isn’t as bright and shiny as it appears,” Dean said darkly, taking another long drink of his shake.

****************************************

Sam drilled the final screw to mount the pegboard onto the long wall of the small shed at the back corner of their yard. He was glad he had finally beaten Dean to a project and felt quite accomplished as he began putting pins in it to hang tools. Being a home owner meant fixing your own problems, so he was actually excited to hang the tools he had gotten from Dean. He pulled a rubber mallet from one of the boxes, hefting it into his hands. This was an old tool. The wooden handle was worn smooth and some stray scratches marred the wood. It was his father’s. Sam stared at it, remembering the stash of tools his father always carried in the trunk of their car. This was one of them. Dean must have saved some of the old tools as he added new ones to build the collection. He was tempted to get rid of it, but his frugal side told him it was just a mallet. He sighed, hanging the heavy thing on the board. At some point, he’d be glad he kept it, he supposed.

The sound of yelling followed by crying caught his attention. He stepped out of the shed, glancing around at the back yards that joined his. 

“I told you to keep your new clothes clean!” Cindy Smith was yelling, eyes bulged and full of fury at her son, Fletcher, who stood in their yard, hand to his cheek, shaking and crying. “Now look at you!” She raised her hand and Sam took off toward her at a run.

“Mrs. Smith!” He yelled, hopping his white picket fence, cutting through the Frieling’s yard at a run. “Cindy!”

She straightened, her hand lowering back to her side as Fletcher turned toward him, tucking his hand away, sniffling.

“Hey,” Sam, now that he’d diffused the situation, wasn’t quite sure what to say or do with it. “Would you happen to have a nail? I was working in my shed and...I...can’t seem to find any nails.”

Her smile was wide, pinned in place with eyes wider than they should be. “A nail? I’m sure we have some! Just let me ask Justin.”

“I’ll wait here,” Sam said tightly. “I’m all...dirty from working outside this evening.”

She nodded; the only sign of the earlier fight was the razor sharpness of her eyes when she looked down at Fletcher. “Go inside, Fletcher.”

The kid sprinted like someone had stuck him with a pin. Both gone now, Sam put his hands on his hips and replayed the memory of the sounds he had heard. A noise had initially grabbed his attention before the crying had started. What he couldn’t figure out now was if the sound had been that of a slap or something else. Either way, Fletcher seemed terrified. He wondered just what had prompted the entire situation, not that any would explain slapping a child, if that was what had happened. She had been yelling about his clothes, which had a tear on one of the knees. He wouldn’t have even known the Smiths HAD a kid if he hadn’t asked who the little boy at the picnic belonged to. He spent the entire picnic with the neighbor girls, which wasn’t abnormal, but Cindy and Justin had never mentioned him when they had come over to introduce themselves. Most people talked about their kids all the time. Not Justin and Cindy. They acted like the kid didn’t even exist!

Justin came out of the back door in his suit. “Hello there!”

Sam rallied a smile, waving half-heartedly.

“Cindy said you needed a nail.” He handed him two shiny nails. 

“Thanks.” Sam cleared his throat. “Cindy was pretty mad at Fletcher just now.”

“Boys will be boys! That’s what I always tell her,” he chuckled. “She just blows a gasket every now and then!” He smiled, nodding.

Sam nodded slowly. “I kinda thought I heard her hit him.”

“What?” Justin rocked back with a look of amused shock on his face. “No! swat on the rear perhaps, but a boy’s gotta learn somehow!”

Sam nodded, backing away. “He’s a really good kid, Mr. Smith. I hope he doesn’t get punished too harshly for just being a kid.” Knowing he was pushing the situation, because no parent wanted to be told how to parent, he gave Justin a forced grin and walked out of the yard, heading back home. Cindy may think twice next time, knowing at least one neighbor was keeping an eye out for Fletcher.

He went back to the shed, throwing the nails into the box. He stared at the mallet a full minute before he took it off the wall and threw it into the box. He repressed his urge to smash the board and shed to pieces, instead, redirecting his anger to controlled breaths. Flashes of the uglier moments of his childhood fought to rear their heads and he swallowed them all until he could hear the quiet buzz of neighborhood activity around him again. A flash of their dad throwing the mallet at them during a drunken outburst, Dean grabbing him to the ground so neither got hit with it, flashed hard and hot in his mind, making him grip the edge of the box until his knuckles turned white. He breathed out slowly until his hands were soft again. He had turned out fine. And Dean was fine. Taking one last deep breath, he sorted through the two boxes of tools Dean had brought, sorting out all the worn items handled by their dad. Dean could keep them or ditch them. He wanted nothing to do with them.

He headed back into the house feeling a bit raw. Gabe sat in the living room on the couch wearing a plain white t-shirt and a pair of shorts.

“Hey!” He grinned up at him.

“Hey.”

Gabe let the newspaper in his hands bend and lower to his lap. “What’s wrong?”

Sam scrubbed a hand through his hair, frowning hard. “I just caught Cindy Smith screaming at her kid in the back yard.” He sat on the couch next to Gabe, laying down to put his head in Gabe’s lap as he hastily moved the paper away. “I thought she hit him.”

Gabe frowned, feathering Sam’s hair back. “The little boy with curly hair?”

“Yeah. I went running over there. He looked terrified.”

They sat quietly for some time. Eventually, Gabe had him relaxed. “I was just reading about Mayor Chip in the paper. Apparently, this town is on the brink of winning the ‘US safest and friendliest city’ award for the sixteenth year in a row.”

“Huh,” Sam huffed.

“They shoulda waited a day. Since our next-door neighbor was possibly killed.”

“Yeah, so, did Melanie say anything about how it happened?”

Gabe’s fingers never stopped moving through his hair. “Nope. Just said Gary died and that the cops haven’t said if it’s a homicide or accident yet.”

“What was Melanie doing at the retirement home? I thought she was a professional psychic,” Sam asked, sitting up.

“Her grandma’s at Sunset Fields. Something Golden. Everyone calls her Goldy. She’s a spunky old lady. I like her.”

Sam laughed at Gabe’s devilish grin. 

“She steals the sugar packets from her table at lunch every day. It drives the nurses nuts.” Gabe chuckled. “I brought her a pack of Pixy Stix and now she calls me ‘Sugar’.”

Sam shook his head. “You are too cute, Gabriel.”

“I try,” he grinned impishly, getting a kiss for his adorableness. “I wonder how our brothers are doing on their date. Hopefully Dean has figured out Cas isn’t gonna bite him. Unless he wants him to, then I don’t know anything about that.”

Sam laughed. “Dean can act like the biggest, most ridiculous flirt, and pick up a guy for a fling with no problem. But any time he’s serious about someone...it’s like he completely freezes up! He gets shy!”

“And awkward,” Gabe nodded. “So, what happens when he’s over being awkward?”

Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s never gotten that serious about anyone. I thought he and Aaron were fairly serious, but apparently not.”

“Well, Cassie only does serious. So...this should be interesting!”

*********************************

Castiel stepped out of Harrington’s with an odd sort of feeling. As far as dates were concerned, this was not ranking very high. Between the news of Gary, Ms. Dowling’s demeanor, and the entire oddity of the town, it was remarkable that he and Dean had not called this a bust. He really needed to improve their surroundings. The last thing he wanted was Dean stressed out or uninterested.

“Wanna take a walk around the neighborhood?” Dean asked. “I’ve been meaning to check the place out better since we met so many people at the picnic.”

“Sure,” Cas nodded, walking beside him, feeling relieved that Dean also wanted to continue the date. “Let’s head up Prosperity Road and see what other shops are here. There must be something to keep all these people out walking.”

Past Harrington’s, there was a strip of small shops. Jack’s Grocery was first. A tiny grocery store that had a little of everything, plus a bakery and deli.

“I’ve been here several times,” Cas said, walking a bit closer to Dean, letting a man, woman, and dog pass them. “I’ve started a snack habit since dinner has been so...”

“Shitty?” Dean grinned.

Before Cas could step away, Dean’s hand seemed to touch his longer than necessary. Quickly picking up on the hint, Cas took his hand with a confident smile and a smooth grasp. Dean’s cheeks flushed a little, but he laced his fingers in his easily.

At least this felt like date material.

“I’ve been there too. Did you notice the butcher in there looks like the butcher from the Brady Bunch?”

Cas chuckled. “I suppose he does.”

Next, they passed an empty store with a vacancy sign. Dean stopped, stepping closer to the window. Castiel joined him, peering into the dusty store.

“Looks like this was a clothing store,” Cas guessed by the racks left abandoned inside.

Dean sighed. “If I had my own shop...I’d have a music store. Or a comic book shop.”

Cas grinned at the thought. “That sounds perfect. I could come listen to your music. Or read comics for free.”

Dean turned to him with a grin. “I might charge you.”

Cas stared up at him, dazed with how handsome he was, particularly when he had a look of hope in his eyes. “And what is the going rate for a comic and your company?”

Dean licked his lips, his grip tightening just slightly. “For you, I’ll take a kiss.”

Cas chuckled, leaning up on his toes slightly and kissed him one, slow, perfect kiss. 

As Dean’s eyes opened, a sobering look crossed his face. Castiel could hardly make a guess at what the thought could be, so he smiled reassuringly and tugged Dean along to keep walking. They passed an eclectic looking pawn shop called The Emporium, then an old-fashioned watch shop called Brennan’s Watchworks, until they reached Van’s Liquor store on the corner.

Across the street, Castiel spotted a pleasant looking restaurant called, Good Graces Cafe. “I’ll take you there for our next date.”

Dean eyed the place suspiciously. “It looks like everything has tofu in it.”

“We’ll find you something, I’m sure,” Cas laughed. They headed back across Prosperity Road. A wooded area stretched on down the road with a tree-cleared section that held a large sign that read, ‘Santa’s Village’. Another sign, barely in visual range, read, ‘Dewy Steven’s Construction’. Nothing looked to be under construction, so either it was just an advertisement, or it was the future site for something to come. 

“That’s the business Gary, Don, and Justin were talking about at the picnic. Bobby Singer owns all that land and there was an argument about posting that sign, since Bobby refuses to sell them the land for the strip mall they want to build,” Cas said. “I wonder what will happen now that Gary won’t be participating?”

“I don’t know. You think Deb killed her husband?” Dean asked, crossing the street with him.

“I don’t know. She seemed like a very nice woman.”

Dean smirked. “It’s always the wife.”

“Well, that just can’t be true,” Cas frowned.

“Okay, not always. But often. Jealousy can be a scary thing.”

They walked by Sunset Fields Retirement Home where Gabe worked, waving at several ladies sitting out on a gazebo. As they turned up Lily Dale Lane, Cas sighed at the Dowling House on the opposite corner. “I should move to a motel.”

“I’ve been thinking the same thing. Couch sleeping isn’t what it used to be,” Dean admitted. 

Dean described his time out at sea, telling Cas how the hauling baskets worked, and what you did and didn’t see in everyday life according to The Deadliest Catch. 

“This is the Himura’s house,” Dean said quietly as they passed the narrow parking lot to Sunset Fields and walked by the small, tan-sided house. It was two stories tall with no garage. Though it wasn’t the smallest house on Lily Dale Lane, it always had a gloomy look to it, making it look less inviting than the others. “Naoki and Olivia are together, but not married. And Kat is Naoki’s daughter.”

“Long, brown hair?” Cas asked, being sure he was picturing the right people. 

“Naoki and Kat, yeah. Olivia is the blonde that was sneaking over to see Gary.”

“Perhaps Deb found out about Gary’s affair,” Cas suggested, both of them casting suspicious looks from the Himura home to the Frieling’s.

“That’s motive 101,” Dean nodded. “At least that’s usually the case on CSI.”

Cas smirked. “I don’t suppose you watch Dr. Sexy too?”

“I LOVE Dr. Sexy!” Dean said, lighting up. “Those fuckin’ boots! Mm!”

Cas laughed, nodding along. “I’m so behind from being in Japan.”

“I’m always behind. Dutch Harbor isn’t known for its Wi-Fi OR cable options.”

Cas grinned at Dean full of hope. “So...next time we can eat at Good Graces and then have a Dr. Sexy binge fest.”

Dean caught his eye, his grip tightening slightly. “You seem awfully sure you’re gonna want a second date with me.”

Cas stopped in his tracks, Dean stopping beside him. “I would have asked you out sooner, Dean, but with my traveling, it just wasn’t possible.” He grinned harder as Dean blushed, looking slightly shocked. “I never forgot that dance we shared at the wedding.”

Dean, looking taken aback, stared at him, encouraging Cas to keep talking, keep expressing to him that he was VERY serious about this date. And more to come. “I’ve thought about you so many times. When you were dating Aaron, I thought I had lost my opportunity.”

Dean shook his head, eyes going wide. “We weren’t even that serious.” Dean looked down at his feet bashfully and pulled his hand away from Cas’. Just as Cas began worrying he had said too much, Dean pulled his wallet out of his pocket, taking out a worn and folded photo, staring at it. “I...I always keep this in my bunk when I’m at sea.” He turned the photo and Cas’ breath caught in his chest. It was one of the wedding photos. Sam and Gabe stood side by side, Sam’s arm around Gabe, Gabe’s arm around Sam and himself, his arm around Gabe and Dean, Dean’s arm around him. He, Sam, and Gabe were smiling at the photographer, and Dean was smiling at Cas. He knew this photo. It was not the one that was his favorite. It was the one taken a moment later of just he and Dean. But knowing this was the one that Dean had taken as one of only a few possessions a deckhand could have aboard the cramped boats touched him to his very soul. 

“Dean,” he said softly, smiling fondly.

“I’ve thought about you a lot too,” Dean added, biting his lip. He folded the picture gently, slipping it back into his wallet. “I had no idea you...”

“I did! I do,” Cas said confidently, something solidifying in his already confident approach to this man. “I...I’m thrilled you thought of me at all!”

Dean gave him an incredulous look. “Every time I asked Sam about how you were doing, I figured you’d be getting married. I don’t know how you’re still available.”

Cas reached for Dean’s shirt, pulling him in for a kiss that lingered only a few sweet seconds. “I was waiting for you, I guess.”

Dean laughed a high, little chuckle, blushing his hardest yet. Cas took his hand again, feeling lighter than air. 

“Did you have Dr. Sexy pinned up next to that picture?” Cas teased, loving the boyish grin Dean was sporting now.

“No!” Dean laughed. “Just the one picture.” He chuckled as Dean pulled him along, continuing their walk.

They crossed a small road that led back into a wooded area. Unlike the clean, pristine sidewalks along Lily Dale, this road was just blacktop and was riddled with potholes. A slightly bent and rusty sign that listed to the right and was partially blocked by trees, marked it as Singer Lane. “This is where Rufus lives,” Dean pointed, a barely visible cabin sat back in the thick of the woods, its moss-covered roof barely discernible from the trees. “And Bobby lives back at the end of it.”

“We’ll have to save that adventure for another day,” Cas said. “I’m not pushing my luck and adding getting shot at to the list of blunders on this date.”

Dean grinned, squeezing his hand. “Blunders?”

“The roast?”

“Ah, that was just the get to know you portion. I can see why you want outta that place. Ms. Dowling isn’t nearly as friendly as Sam makes her out to be.”

“I told you!” Cas laughed.

“And...” Dean blushed a little, “it wouldn’t matter if we were suddenly over-run by zombies at this point, because that kiss made this entire day worth it.”

Cas grinned at him much more confidently. “And the shakes were good.”

“And the shakes were good,” Dean laughed. 

The next house was a red, wood-sided house with white wood trim that gave it a very German look. “This is the Whittakers,” Cas said quietly. And before they were past the first bush on the corner of the lot, nosy Nellie was coming out onto her porch with a watering can. Her eyes darted down to their hands and she straightened a little taller, giving the notion of looking down her nose at them from up on her porch. “Hello,” she called.

Cas and Dean waved. “And here she comes,” Dean muttered under his breath. Nellie came down her porch steps, empty watering can in hand.

“Did you two hear anything about Gary?” Her eyes darted across the street to the Frieling house.

“Just what you told us at Harrington’s,” Cas said tactfully.

“You didn’t hear any noises? Or see anyone sneaking around?”

Cas narrowed his eyes at her. “No.”

She was still stretching her neck to gawk across the street. She looked back at them, scanning them quickly as if she was looking for weapons or evidence. “The last person that lived in your brother’s house wasn’t very sociable. Hope those two don’t turn out to be the same way.”

Cas was frowning now, though he didn’t look as pissed as Dean. This woman was sourcing the wrong crowd if she thought she could complain about Sam or Gabe.

“Looks like you do plenty of socializing for everyone,” Dean sniped.

“Uh,” she scoffed, turning to go back up her porch steps.

So, clearly Nellie and Wayne Whittaker were NOT going to be Winchester fans. “Come on,” he said softly, scorning her rudeness with a glare.

“Nnnnn,” Dean all but growled, holding back what appeared to be a whopper of a blast.

The next house, in Castiel’s opinion, was the oddest house on the street. The Carrigan’s. It was a lovely, white, two-story home. The windows were trimmed in black shutters and the front door had a stately appeal. The house itself was not sinister by any means. It was the Christmas decorations which adorned it in July that really threw him off. The front pillars flanking the wreathed front door were wrapped in garland. A nine-foot Santa, a train, a snowman, and a full-size real sleigh decorated the front yard. And all of these lit up at night, along with the roof lines and bushes. None of it was even tacky, per se. It was just so oddly out of place in July.

“These people are full blown Christmas-Cunningham-whack-a-doo,” Dean announced.

Ed and Madge certainly were odd birds. They were sugary sweet upon meeting, with a certain something that was off-putting just below the surface. These people and the Smiths made Castiel the most uncomfortable. Chip Harrington and his sugary-sweet daughter were similar. His stay with Ms. Dowling (who operated the same way) had him more than over the nicey-nice citizens of this town.

“Ed offered me peanut brittle at the picnic,” Cas said, still thinking it such an odd gesture that the man was walking around a picnic with a tin of something generally served at Christmas, while wearing a sweater vest with a snowman embroidered on it.

“Yeah. They’re weird. They give me the creeps,” Dean said quietly. “This whole town gives me the creeps.”

“Me too,” Cas admitted. “I want to be supportive of our brothers and their accomplishment on moving and buying a home but...”

“But they bought two tickets to Crazytown?” Dean added. “Yeah, I’ve been thinkin’ the same thing since I drove into town. And Sam is so damn proud of owning a home. It’s something we never really had. Stability.” Dean shook his head with disappointment. “I’m not tryin’ ta be a jerk here, but...something’s rotten in the state of Denmark, ya know?”

Cas nodded. “I know nothing about these people.” The next house after the Carrigan’s was a lovely grayish-blue two-story home with sharp A-framed eves. It was very neat and tidy looking with a carefully maintained and manicured lawn and landscaping.

“These are the Bermans. Linda and PJ. They’ve got a little girl named Maddie. And Maddie has an imaginary manicorn friend named Sparkle.”

“Sparkle?” Cas grinned.

“Oh yeah. Part man, part unicorn. Manicorn,” Dean explained with some sort of pride, perhaps in creating the word manicorn.

“I see,” Cas grinned. 

“Kid seems nice, but I could tell by Sam’s spider-senses that something was off immediately. And he’s no stranger to imaginary friends. I don’t know. Some psycho-babble probably explained to me but I blanked it all out.” 

“And you met Linda and PJ?” Cas asked.

“Gabe was telling me about them,” Dean said. “He thinks Deb Frieling was sneaking down here to see ol’ PJ. Said she wasn’t too nice to Linda or Maddie.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah. These people do a lot of moving around at night, if you catch my drift.”

“I do catch your drift.”

Passing the Berman’s house, they rounded the end of the lane that was crowned by the largest home on the street. “This is the Stark’s,” Cas said quietly, looking up at the sprawling two-story brick home with two sports cars sitting in the driveway. “Don and Maggie Stark. Very...chatty people. They remind me of the company my family would have kept. Well-to-do and oblivious to those below them.”

“Gabe heard they’re splitting up. A trial separation or something.”

“Really? They were awfully snippy toward each other,” Cas recalled. “He seems to be at the center of a business venture to open a strip mall in town with the Smiths, the Frielings, and the Bermans. But it didn’t seem to be going well.”

“Huh,” Dean listened carefully. “Sounds like he’s the money source.”

“Indeed,” Cas agreed.

“And if Deb Frieling is cheating on, was cheating, on Gary with PJ Berman...that can’t be good for business.”

“Maybe Deb was just discussing business with the Bermans, not sneaking down here to see PJ romantically,” Cas pondered. 

Their attention was snagged by the sounds of an argument coming from the Stark’s huge home. Maggie came out the front door and opened her car, retrieving a bottle. She marched over to a brick pillar near the front porch that had a bust of Don Stark on it and she began spraying the flowers around it.

“Is that -”

“Weed killer,” Dean chuckled. “Those flowers will be dying by tomorrow.”

Sue Friend came walking toward them, exchanging a terse hello on her way up the driveway, joining Maggie. 

“That’s Maggie’s friend, Sue.” They kept walking as Sue gave Maggie a hug, Maggie ranting about something.

“This must be Sue’s house,” Dean nodded toward an average looking white sided house, that looked quite plain in comparison to the Stark’s. Sounds of a child splashing in water and giggling came from behind the house and as they passed it, they could see an above-ground pool in the backyard. 

“She’s a single mother, but I really don’t know much more than that,” Cas added quietly.

A car pulled into the driveway of the green, two-story house next to Sue’s. The roof looked like it needed replacing five years ago, and the yard was somewhat over grown and weedy. A sign in the front yard read, ‘Psychic’ with a red palm under it. The house was in no way rundown, but in comparison to the other houses around it, it looked a bit on the shabby side. Melanie Golden got out of the red junker, sending them a smile and a wave.

“Hi,” they said back, waving.

She came to the foot of her short driveway to talk to them. “Out scoping the neighborhood?”

“Something like that,” Dean grinned.

“Ohhh,” she grinned, spying their clasped hands. “I see you two have relaxed on the sexual tension department somewhat and are what...dating?”

“Uh...yeah,” Dean said, frowning. “Guess you are psychic.”

She shrugged with a good-natured grin. “More like...I read people very well. But Mr. Angel Eyes was broadcasting loud and clear at the picnic that he was pursuing you.”

Cas’ jaw dropped. “I...”

“It’s okay!” She laughed. “I’m glad to see you managed to get somewhere so fast with this one.” She looked at Dean, seeming to see more than just his t-shirt, jeans, and look of discomfort. “You’re so...bottled up.”

Dean scoffed. “This is me relaxed, lady.”

She nodded, her smile widening and warming even more. “He’s good for you, Dean.”

Dean blushed and honestly, Cas figured he might be blushing too.

Melanie’s brow knit with some amusement. “Next time I see you two, I’m sure you’ll both be much more Zen.”

Dean’s free hand came up in a frustrated wave. “I am relaxed!”

“Mmm,” she tipped her head, not buying it. “He’s...frustrated. Complicated,” she said, pointing at Cas. “And you’re just stressed,” she pointed at Dean. She shrugged again with her easy grin.

Dean and Cas exchanged slightly guilty looks.

“I heard about Gary,” she said quietly.

“As did we,” Cas said.

“Wish I could predict that kind of shit,” she said with a look of regret. “Anyway, see you guys around.” She waved, heading back toward her car.

They walked on. “And here we are at the house of the two strangest birds I have ever met.”

Cas grinned. “Should we stop and say hello to our brothers or...keep going?”

Dean gave Sam and Gabe’s house a regretful look. He turned to him, biting his lip slightly.

“Whatever it is that you would like to do,” Cas said, pulling Dean’s hand to his mouth to kiss his rough knuckles, “I promise I’ll say yes.”

Dean huffed a laugh. “Well, that kinda leaves me wide open for ideas!”

All Cas could do was grin. With dusk setting in, he hated to end their date so soon. But he didn’t want to be pushy either.

“You wanna go for a drive?” Dean asked.

“Yes.”

Dean chuckled, pulling keys out of his pocket. “I got no idea where I’m going. Just figured I’d drive around and see what’s what.”

Cas shrugged, grinning all the harder. “Sounds perfect.”

***********************************

Gabe popped a lollipop into his mouth. Sunday in Charming Acres. It was so domestic. Since his Samshine was stormy with a chance of rain (thanks to Cindy Smith - who he’d pegged a bitch from her first ‘Oh you!’), he figured he needed to cheer his Samshine up a bit.

He grabbed his wallet and decided he was taking his husband to Harrington’s for one of the milkshakes he kept hearing good things about. Just as he turned to shout up the stairs, there was a knock on the door. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered.

As he stuffed his wallet in his back pocket, he pulled the front door open. To his surprise, Sully stood there with a plate covered with foil. “Hey,” he said, opening the screen door.

“Hi, Gabe,” Sully said quietly with a sympathetic smile.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, really not sure what to make of this guy.

“I brought a treat,” he said, lifting the platter a little higher. “I heard about your neighbor and wanted to make sure you two were doing okay.”

Gabe’s eyebrows lifted. “You heard about Gary?”

“Yeah. Small town. News travels fast. Is Sam doing okay?” The man looked truly worried.

“Yeah. He’s...we really didn’t know the guy.” Gabe clarified. “But...I’ll go get Sam.”

“Cool beans,” Sully grinned nervously.

“You can, uh, wait in the kitchen.”

“Okay!” Sully grinned, following him, standing just inside the kitchen doorway. “Sam is so awesome,” Sully added.

Gabe stifled all the smart-ass shit that just tumbled to the tip of his tongue. “Yes, his is. I’ll be right back,” he said, not even trying to sort out why this was weirder on a stack of weird events. He hopped up the steps two at a time, finding Sam in their bedroom, hanging up the last of his clothes.

“Hey!” Sam grinned. “My stuff is finally all put away.”

“That’s good,” Gabe nodded, waiting until Sam closed his closet door and looked at him. “So...Rainbow Bright’s fugly uncle is downstairs.”

“Who?” Sam frowned.

“That guy. Sully.”

“Gabriel Novak.” Sam put both hands on his hips, frowning at him.

“Sorry,” Gabe snickered. “He isn’t ugly. He seriously could be related to Rainbow Bright though. The freaking suspenders!” He shook his head, getting no amusement from Sam. “And he brought you a treat to cheer you up.”

“Really?” Sam asked, heading toward him.

“Yeah. He’s worried you’re upset about Gary Frieling.”

Sam gave him a confused look.

“I think this guy has a thing for you.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “He does not. He’s asexual, for starters, and he’s just...he cares about how people feel.”

Gabe followed him down the steps. “And how exactly did being asexual come up in your orientation meeting? Was it the word ‘orientation?’”

Sam waved him off, not wanting Sully to hear them talking as he stepped into the kitchen, greeting his coworker like they were old friends. After a hug Sully pulled a very worried look on his face, he patted Sam’s shoulder. “Are you doing okay, Sam? Sudden deaths can seem very scary.”

“No, no,” Sam assured him with a patient smile. “I’m good. But thank you for stopping by!”

“Sure!” Sully said brightly, his face lighting up. “I brought you my favorite dish for when I’m feeling down in the dumps.” He handed Sam the platter.

Sam pulled the foil away, staring down at the mess on the plate. Gabe came closer to investigate. “Is that -”

“Marshmallow nachos! Yeah!” Sully laughed. “They always make me feel better when I’m down and...I thought you might be kinda bummed and all, you know, because of your neighbor.”

Sam’s face went from confused to an appreciative grin quickly. “That was really nice of you, Sully. I’m doing okay. I mean, it is shocking. We just met the guy.”

“I heard his heart exploded,” Sully winced. “Poor guy.”

“Really?” Sam asked, sitting the bizarre dish on the counter, re-covering it. “Like, a heart attack?”

“No,” Sully shook his head, ringing his hands. “Like...pcheww!” He frowned, his hands spreading in an explosive gesture.

“That’s kinda...crazy,” Gabe said. “How does that happen? Was it gory?”

Sully shrugged. “I dunno.”

“Wow,” Sam frowned. “That’s...”

“Yeah,” Sully said sadly. “I just wanted to make sure you two were okay. If you need to talk, I’m always here.”

“Thanks,” Gabe and Sam said. 

“Well, I’ll let you two get back to your Sunday evening,” Sully smiled, inching toward the living room.

“Before you go,” Sam interrupted, worry crinkling his brow, “do you know Fletcher Smith?”

Sully looked confused for a moment. “Oh! Fletcher Donavan? The Smith’s nephew?”

“I thought he was their son,” Gabe said.

Sully shook his head. “No. Cindy’s sister died and they got custody of him three years ago. Awesome kid! Quiet, but seems pretty happy most of the time.”

Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, today, I thought I heard Cindy hit him. But I didn’t see anything. Do you think I should do something?”

Worry crossed Sully’s expressive face. “If you didn’t see anything, I can’t help you take it to the police. But you can always call Childline.”

Sam nodded. “I just wasn’t sure if I was seeing something or making it out to be worse in my mind, ya know?”

Sully nodded. “He’s a quiet boy. Great kid! Loves music. He’s got an awesome imagination.” His smile faded a bit. “I must admit though, I’ve wondered if something wasn’t going on at home. I’ve just never had any evidence. He always says home is great.”

Sam nodded solemnly. Yeah, when he was a kid, he always told nosy teachers that his home was fine too. Saying something was wrong led to questions, which led to people showing up at your door asking questions. And that never went well. He shoved a nasty memory aside and focused on Sully again. “I’m gonna keep an eye out for him. If I hear anything again, I’ll call it in.”

“Let me know. When school starts, I’ll be sure to look out for him.” Sully sighed. “Well, I should go.”

“Yeah, sure!” Sam nodded, walking out with him. “Thanks for the...dessert. That was really nice of you.”

Gabe waved, watching him head toward the door. He walked over to the kitchen window, looking out over the backyard. Sometimes he forgot just how tough Sam’s job could be. And he had a bit more respect for Sully, who seemed like such a goofball. And Sam was right. There didn’t seem to be a sexual bone in the little do-gooder’s body. Gabe moved over to the platter, sniffing it curiously. He peeled back the foil, tasting a nacho covered in marshmallow with rainbow sprinkles. He chewed with uncertainty, not wanting to like it, but kinda liking it.

Sam came back in the kitchen with a frown. “I’m worried about that kid.”

Gabe nodded. “I’ll keep my ears open and eyes peeled. I’ll let ya know if I see anything. I knew those Smiths were shady.”

Sam sighed heavily. “I just don’t want to be calling child services unless I’m a little more confident something is up. In a town this small, it’s easy to develop a bad reputation for causing problems. Then my students might not think I’m trustworthy to confide in.”

Gabe nodded. “She mighta just lost her temper, sounding worse than what you’re imagining.”

“I know.” Sam stared at the side door, worrying. “And poor Gary! What the hell would do that?”

Gabe re-covered the plate. “No idea.”

Sam sat at the table, looking as down as Sully thought he would be. He hugged him from behind, kissing his cheek. “I was just getting ready to ask you out on a little date.”

“Oh yeah?” Sam grinned.

“I was going to ask you out for some milkshakes at Harrington’s. But if you’d rather have nachos -”

“I can’t believe you even tried them!” Sam laughed. 

“I will eat them if you don’t escort me to a sweet alternative immediately!”

“That looks like something Dean would have tried to serve me for dinner when I was four!”

Gabe laughed, taking his husband by the hand. They walked to Harrington’s, noticing Dean’s car was gone from where it had been parked. 

“You think Dean took Cas somewhere?” Gabe asked.

“Must have. Guess that means their date is going well.”

It was dark and plenty of people were out walking, most of them seeming to be heading home. They went into Harrington’s, noting it only had a few patrons.

“Finally!” Sonny grinned, shaking her head gently. “I thought you two would never come in!”

Gabe grinned back at her, following Sam to a booth. “Figured we better get in here before all the milkshakes were gone,” Gabe joked.

Sonny came around the counter with two picture-perfect milkshakes, topped with whip cream and one of them with two cherries. “First one’s on the house!” She sat the vanilla one in front of Sam and the half strawberry, half chocolate with two cherries in front of him.

“How did you know what we would order?” Sam asked.

She shrugged. “Just had a feeling!” She spun and walked away, disappearing into the kitchen.

Sam looked at him.

“Yeah. It’s weird as shit. But I’m letting it slide on account of how good this looks!”

Sam huffed a little laugh before trying his shake. “Oh...that’s good!”

Gabe had to agree. Whatever they made their shakes with, they were damn good at it. They were freaking delicious.

Sonny returned a few minutes later. “So?”

“Very good!” They both mumbled back, mouths full.

She grinned wide, bobbing with a knowing nod. “You fellas want some fries or something to go with those shakes?”

“No,” Sam assured.

Sonny froze at the table as two police officers came in. Every head turned to look at them. The woman, a blonde, looked around the diner with a pleasant enough grin. Sonny whirled into action, her smile returning. “Hey there! What can I get you?” She asked, going behind the counter.

The two officers sat at the bar, Sonny bringing them both coffee. She was talking to them quietly when Chip came through the door of the kitchen. He made a beeline for the police, Sonny stepping out of his way. She kept moving with her coffee pot and several mugs in her hand. It was the worried frown that had Gabe more than curious. Usually the robots didn’t actually frown. He lifted his hand, catching Sonny’s attention. She came toward them, Sam watching her just as curiously. “Second thought, I’ll have some coffee,” Gabe grinned up at her.

“Okay,” she smiled, sitting a mug down. 

“The police here just for coffee?” Gabe asked.

Sonny, her eyes looking sharper than the other robots, actually stopped pouring coffee to talk. “No. Because if there was a real problem, they might have to admit that someone in Charming Acres wasn’t actually perfect.”

Gabe was shocked by the raw honesty, But Sam jumped right in. “Does Chip often cover things up when they look too...messy?”

Sonny shrugged, starting to look nervous. “Don’t all politicians and police?” She walked away quickly, Sam giving Gabe a look of open confusion.

“Why would cops cover up a crime?” Sam asked in a whisper, leaning toward him.

Gabe shrugged. “Because they’re about to be voted the safest place in the country for like the sixteenth time and don’t want to ruin their reputation?”

“You can’t be serious,” Sam’s confusion fell to a look of incredulity.

“I’ve heard of stranger things. Hard to win awards if someone goes and kills somebody.”

“What do they win?” Sam asked.

Gabe leaned forward. He loved his husband dearly, but he still had rose-colored glasses on when it came to this town. “Sam. It seems VERY important to the people here that things appear picturesque. APPEAR being the key word. Something is seriously off in Charming Acres.”

Sam’s face sobered as he looked around the diner. The shiny black and white checkered floors, red leather booths, bright chrome trimmed stools didn’t bring the sparkle of joy to Sam’s eye like they did when they had walked in.

Gabe slid his hand across the table, taking Sam’s.

“Did we make a mistake?” Sam asked, his eyes full of worry now.

“No,” Gabe grinned. “A mistake would involve one of us sitting here without the other. As long as we’re together, there’s no mistakes, just...really good stories for another day.”

Sam huffed a laugh. “This place is whacko, isn’t it?”

Gabe pulled Sam’s big hand to his mouth, kissing it. “Absolutely nutballs.”

Sam slumped in the booth, looked out the window and started laughing. He must have kept remembering nuttier and nuttier things because he kept laughing harder and harder. Gabe started laughing at Sam laughing so damn hard. Finally, the pair sobered enough to take another sip of milkshake and stare at each other. 

“I’m sorry,” Sam said finally.

“Psh! Please! This town needs more normal people. We’re just evening the odds here.”

Sam smiled shyly down to the table before it turned more serious. “Do you think the mayor is encouraging police to cover up serious crimes to make the town look better?”

They both watched as Chip laughed at something the male officer said. “See ya later, Pops!” The officer called, heading out the door with his partner.

Gabe leaned forward. “Sonny was talking about Gary, wasn’t she? Sully heard Gary’s heart exploded. It wasn’t JUST a heart attack. So...what are the police covering up?”

Sam shook his head, not having the answers. “I don’t know, but we should figure it out.”

Gabe smirked. “It’s a little late to pretend we’re FBI agents or anything. These people already know our life stories.”

Sam tapped his straw to the bottom of his glass, stabbing his ice cream with a thoughtful frown. “No, that would be ridiculous. But we could do some digging. See what we can turn up. I mean, if we’re going to stay here, we should know what kind of place we’re raising our children in.”

Gabe sat back, eyebrows lifting.

Children?

“I thought you didn’t want any children,” he said slowly. It had been one of the only things they had ever fought about. It may be the only thing Gabriel had sacrificed in order to be with Sam. Sam didn’t want kids. He had no interest in repeating his father’s mistakes OR creating new ones. He got enough interaction helping kids at work. Gabe had almost called it quits. He loved kids. He always thought he’d have a pile of kids! But...without Sam? No. So, he had given up on this part of his future. So, for Sam to have said that, it was like dangling a carrot in front of a starving rabbit.

Sam bit his lip. “Well...we haven’t talked about it for over a year. And...I...” he shrugged, “I think...with you...maybe we could do it.”

Gabe’s entire world went still and silent.

“Sorry I was so stubborn about it before,” Sam grinned, reaching across the table to take his hand this time.

Gabe shook his head, afraid to talk, afraid to move too much. If he did, he might start freaking crying.

“Can I get you fellas anything else?” Sonny asked, popping up out of nowhere.

Sam sat back with a soft grin. “No. Just the check, thank you.”

He left money with the receipt and pulled Gabe out of the booth, leading him out of the restaurant without a word. Out on the sidewalk, in the light from the diner window, no one else around, Sam turned him to face him. “I didn’t mean to drop that on you like a bomb, Gabe. I’ve been thinking about it ever since we had that fight a long time ago.”

“You have?”

“Yeah. The more I see how good our life is, how functional we are, the more it seems possible to not ruin someone by bringing them into it, ya know?”

Gabe nodded.

“Thank you for being so patient with me.” Sam hugged him tight. “I’m ready to start talking about having kids.”

Gabe swiped at the tears rolling down his cheeks. All he could do was nod and hug Sam. His perfect Sam. The only glitch in Sam’s entire being was now a new talking point? They could have a family? He sniffled as Sam kissed his head, his temple, his cheek, and his mouth.

“Are you excited?” Sam asked nervously.

“Yes!” Gabe choked out, swiping more tears away.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry! Or take so long, or be so stubborn about it!”

Gabe shook his head with a laugh. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I meant it when I said I was fine with never having children because BOTH should want children, not just one. I really was okay with it. Kinda like drinking water for the rest of your life is okay. I could survive and still be happy. But...” he took a shaky breath, fighting more damn tears from falling. “Are you sure, Sam?”

“I’m sure I’m ready to talk about it,” Sam assured him. “I know I love you with all my heart, Gabe. And I think you would be an amazing dad.”

Gabe wanted to roll into a ball, or explode with joy. He felt all over the map with emotions.

“Come on,” Sam chuckled, taking him by the hand. “Let’s go home.”


	6. Jinkies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas and Dean finish their date.
> 
> Gabe goes to work.
> 
> Sam has a mystery to solve.

Chapter 6: Jinkies

There was nowhere Dean felt more at home than behind the steering wheel of his baby. And though Cas had been doing everything right, there was a level of comfort only the smell, sound, feel, and power of his Baby could bring.

“This car is huge,” Cas grinned, stretching out comfortably in the passenger seat.

“Baby meet Cas. Cas, this here’s my pride and joy, Baby. She’s a 1967 Chevrolet Impala, four-door, manual (because she knows what she’s doin’), Hardtop Sedan, in black.” He grinned wide, taking the main drag out of town, heading for open highway. “Under the hood, she has a 327 engine and a four-barrel carburetor. She can go from 0-100 miles per hour in 10.1 seconds.”

Cas chuckled. “Damn, I didn’t know you were already in love! Looks like I’m a little late to this party!”

Dean smirked. “First loves are forever, but she don’t keep me too warm at night. Though I’ve slept in here more times than I can count.” He glanced at Cas, finding the man not appreciating the road at all. In fact, he was shifted against the door, elbow on the window ledge, watching every move Dean made, with a sultry grin.

Dean blushed immediately and let off the gas a bit, realizing he was already 20 miles over the speed limit. He let his right-hand drop to his lap self-consciously, using driving as an excuse to not meet those eyes that were studying him so damn hard.

“Changed her oil for the first time, by myself, when I was seven. I know this car inside and out.” He chanced a glance at Cas again, stunned at how fucking good someone could look while they teased a finger across their bottom lip. 

Eyes on the road, Winchester.

“So, this was your dad’s?” Cas asked. “I don’t think Sam ever told me that.”

“Yeah.” He hadn’t meant to go to the my-childhood-sucked portion of the date. He just liked bragging about his car.

“Sam told me plenty about your dad,” Cas went on. “I’m glad you managed to find something good in the chaos he raised you in.”

Dean let off the gas some more. Oh yeah, Cas knew about their dad. Sweet.

“So, this is the car he crashed?” Cas asked.

“Nah. I mean, he did crash it. Totaled her. But he was driving some piece of shit truck when he wrecked and died. Luckily, Baby was sitting at my grandfather’s place slowly rusting to death.”

“Ah, Samuel,” Cas nodded. “He was an asshole too, from what Sam tells me.”

“Yeah. Mean fucker. Swear that bastard tried to kill me and Sam a coupla times.” Dean shook his head, taking the curve ahead swift and smooth. “Gotta love family.”

“No, you don’t,” Cas retorted. “I mean, I don’t sit around and hate them. That would be a waste of my time. But they can suck my dick if they think I give a shit what they think about my life, or Gabe’s.”

Dean’s mouth gaped as he turned to Cas with a grin. He was plenty used to language like that, he just hadn’t expected it from sweet, mild-mannered Castiel angel-to-the-dying Novak!

“Damn!” Dean laughed.

“Sorry,” Cas lifted a hand, a wicked glare squinting his eyes at the road now. “My family was politely homophobic until Gabe announced he was getting married. Then all hellfire and brimstone broke out. I mean, come on! Who can possibly look at Sam and think ANYTHING negative?”

Dean nodded, completely relating. “Only family I had to come out to was Sam. I always knew for myself. Figured it out pretty quick thanks to my dad’s belligerent opinions on everyone. That bastard hated everyone for one reason or another.”

“You never told him?” Cas asked, facing the road now.

“Oh, he knew. I don’t count coming out to him. He’s the one that told me I was a -”, Dean sucked his teeth in irritation of the bad memories. “Well, he called me all kinds of shit. There WAS no closet with John Winchester. He just fucking told you how it was, why you sucked, and how worthless you were gonna be.”

“Dean,” Cas said, his hand suddenly warm and firm on his thigh. The intrusion caught him so off guard, being so wrapped up in his own memories, that he flinched.

Cas pulled his hand back and Dean took his foot off the gas pedal altogether, righted the car with both hands on the wheel now, and slowed down considerably as he calmed his angry breaths. “Sorry.”

Just as Dean began to worry what Cas must be thinking, Cas’ hand returned to his knee, gently, and Dean winced internally at what an idiot he must look like right now. Damaged was for teenagers. He was fucking thirty. He should be way over this shit. This stupid, pointless, worthless shit.

“I’ve never been able to actually sit so close to someone while they were driving,” Cas grinned at him. He had slid over and they were now shoulder to shoulder along the bench seat.

Dean grinned, breathing easier.

“It’s like in the old movies,” Cas went on, grinning out at the road, “or country music videos,” his hand slid just a bit higher up his thigh, his thumb sweeping back and forth enough to lull Dean into feeling even more relaxed.

He appreciated the change in subject. The lack of arguing, his apology, and understanding...well...everything. Points to Cas for that. And points for Sam doing the leg work on this one. Someone understanding his past without him having to rehash all the shitty details was refreshing to say the least. Dean snorted a little laugh, moved his foot to the gas pedal again to even his speed and loved the weight of Cas’ relaxed hand on his leg. Yeah. This was good. Real good. “Didn’t know you liked country music.”

“I’m from Texas. It’s illegal not to.” They exchanged a quick grin and Dean could swear he had just fallen in love. 

Well, that was just ridiculous.

And stupid.

And dangerous.

He got lost in the yellow dotted line of the highway. The quiet roar of Baby’s engine, and the smell of leather, and Cas. Sometimes he just needed to drive. Sometimes he just needed to leave. But two weeks ago, as Cain steered his boat, The Mark, into Dutch Harbor for the last time, Dean had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t leave anymore. That he would stay. This time, when he reminded himself, it was actually a feeling of relief. He was not going back to sea. Or his past. Or reliving all the moments his life had sucked. He was moving forward with purpose.

Realizing he had just been lost in thought again, he dropped his right hand down to Cas’, taking his hand in his. “Bench seats are awesome.”

Cas lay his head on Dean’s shoulder and sighed. “This is awesome.”

Dean turned onto a back road, hoping the thing wound around the world forever. They drifted along, watching the weedy grass go by in the headlights.

“Want me to go anywhere in particular?” Dean asked softly, tipping his head so his cheek brushed Cas’ hair.

“Nope. Wherever you take me is fine with me.”

Dean grinned out at the road. Either Sam had warned Cas and gave him every right move to make to win him over, or Cas was just fucking perfect.

*******************************************

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this relaxed in my entire life,” Cas said aloud, staring up at a wide smattering of stars that he knew had names and made pictures, but all he could see was how pretty it was.

“This place is pretty awesome, wherever the hell we are,” Dean chuckled.

They had driven for over an hour, hand in hand, a silence so comfortable that you would think he and Dean knew each other intimately for the past five years instead of barely on the fringe of existing. 

He knew enough about Dean Winchester to know that he had taken a serious misstep by bringing up his childhood. Sam had told Gabe everything over the years. And Gabe, in turn, had told him. Sam had told him plenty on his own. He recognized his error the second he had brought up Dean’s dad. It wasn’t that he couldn’t handle hearing Dean vent, swear, cry, or even laugh about his past. He was okay with all that. What had hurt him to his soul was when Dean flinched away from him. And it wasn’t that he couldn’t handle all that went with that too. It just made him want to A) hug Dean, B) kill John Winchester and Samuel Campbell, and C) kick himself for bringing up such a touchy subject when Dean was obviously already a little nervous on this date.

But he wasn’t one to harbor missteps, whether they were from others or himself, so he simply waited for Dean to cycle through.

His sudden curious move and question about whether or not he had just seen a carousel, had perked Dean up significantly on their drive. He made a careful U-turn and headed back to a park. It was closed due to the late hour, gate chained shut, but they were both up for climbing the fence and sneaking around in the dark to check out the little park. There was a large carousel, two other rides for children, a locked concession stand, and five game booths. But the main focus of the park was the lake. They had hiked down the trail and found it. The lifeguard stand stood empty, along with all the coveted little cabanas in the nice, grassy section that had to be prime real estate in operational hours.

At the moment, they lay sprawled out on one of the cabanas that had the roof rolled back and tied off, giving them a huge view of the night’s sky. The thick cushion of what was technically a bed made to be outside, was soft under their backs, and gave them a nice place to stretch out.

“Is Castiel a constellation?” Dean asked from beside him. His voice sounded soft and dreamy, matching the way Cas felt at the moment.

“No.”

“It should be.”

Cas grinned wide. Dean was too adorable for words sometimes. “I’m named after the angel.”

“Ahhh,” Dean said, “that makes sense.”

Cas chuckled. “It does?”

“Well...yeah! You were a hospice nurse! You gotta be a special kind of person to help people in a time like that.”

This was something Cas heard a lot. He didn’t feel special. Not really. “When my time comes, I don’t want to be alone.”

Dean turned to look at him, Cas turning to do the same. Dean’s arms were folded behind his head, while Cas’ were clasped lightly over his stomach. They weren’t even touching. But as their gaze held, Cas felt his heart do a little flip.

“You won’t be alone,” Dean said softly, looking like he meant it.

Cas grinned. “I could be. And I’m okay with that, but I would much prefer if someone were there. If nothing more than to hold my hand and know that I was here. That I lived.”

Dean shook his head no. “They’ll know more than that! They’ll know everything about you. How awesome you were. Are!”

Cas felt bad for bringing up a subject that scared most people. “All I meant was, I’m okay with dealing with death because I hope karma is kind enough to return the favor. It’s a frightening time for some. But most are so relieved that it really becomes more about just comforting them.” Cas watched as Dean went up onto one elbow, looking down on him. “I like to provide people with comfort.”

Dean leaned down and kissed him, Cas quickly moving his arms to welcome him, holding him in an embrace that seemed so absolutely right. He followed Dean’s lead, feeling the kisses turn more eager by the moment. Dean pulled back, hovering above him with swollen lips and dark, sparkling eyes. He’d hoped to kiss Dean tonight. Okay, in his wildest dreams, he hoped to have sex with Dean tonight. But for some reason, every time they actually kissed, it felt so fundamentally groundbreaking that he honestly fumbled for what step to take next. Dean, it seemed, felt it too, hesitating before he reached a hand over his head and pulled his t-shirt off.

“Oh wow,” Cas said out loud. Not that he meant to. And now Dean was smirking, dropping back to one elbow beside him. Cas’ body followed his like a magnet, going up onto one elbow and he sat up, pulling his own t-shirt off. As he looked down at Dean lying there watching him, nothing but the night sounds to give him direction, he decided he was not having sex with Dean tonight. There was something more to this than he had ever thought possible. He tossed his own shirt aside and leaned down, framing Dean’s head in his hands before delving in for another round of deep, slow, thorough kisses.

They both gasped softly as their chests met skin to skin. Cas closed his eyes, groaning slow and low as Dean’s hands skated over his back. When he could breathe more regularly, he opened his eyes, floored at what he held. Who he held. His breath caught again as their eyes met and got lost. Absolutely, blissfully lost. “I’ve thought of you so many times, Dean. You are...” his mind grasped for words to match the feelings this man was igniting inside him. “Captivating.”

His lips moved in an amused tilt, but the look in his eyes was dreamy. “I’m glad we finally got together,” Dean whispered. “Never realized you were into me.”

Cas grinned, his head tilting with endearment as his fingertips smoothed through his hair and traced light lines over the shells of his ears. He leaned in again kissing him gently, so pleased at the way he kissed back so eagerly, spurring him on to kiss more deeply.

************************************************

Gabe took a screenshot of the job advertisement for an RN, in his work email, sending it to Cas. He also sent a text.

Gabe: Here, get a job! You appear to have waaaaay too much time on your hands.

“Marion, these kids today, I’ll tell ya. You raise them, push them out of the nest, and they fall right back in.”

Marion looked up at him with a grin from her wheelchair. She had a habit of hanging out in the day room, so Gabe had taken a moment to say hello while he checked his email. Besides, from where he stood leaning against the wall, he could see the hand of the junior volunteer who was playing Go Fish with Fred. The kid was a grandson of Sheila Tate, one of the other residents, and was great at keeping some of the folks busy for a few hours every week. Fred was easily confused, but seemed quite able to see how many fingers Gabe held up and ask the kid for that card if he had the match. 

Gabe chuckled as Fred got his second match in a row.

“Your brother still living with you?” Marion asked, able to remember most things out of the multitude he spouted off to her every day.

“Sam’s brother is. And apparently MY brother slept there last night too.”

“You’re running a regular flop house!” Marion teased.

Gabe laughed. He loved old people. He just did. “So get this, Marion.” Gabe pulled up a chair, Marion leaning closer to listen carefully. Her long blondish-grey hair was up in a messy bun and her eyes twinkled merrily. She was wearing her usual crystal necklaces, bracelets of a variety of stones, and earrings with little fairies dangling from her ears. “My brother went out with my husband’s brother last night. Kind of a big deal, right?”

She smiled with a nod.

“When I got up this morning, they were BOTH in my guest room, sleepin’ on a bed that was NOT there when I went to bed.”

Marion shook her head. “They’re taking advantage of you!”

“Right?!” Gabe got up, pushing his chair in.

“Better start charging rent,” she added. She was younger than some of the older, more frail residents, but a mild stroke had left her disabled enough that she needed care while she went through therapy, hoping to return home in a few weeks.

Gabe squatted down, resting his arms on her armrest. “That is an excellent idea. How much should I charge?”

“Well...$50. Unless they make a raucous. Then charge them double!”

“You’re the best, Marion!” He stood up, kissing the top of her head. He peeked at Griffin Tate’s cards again and held up one finger to Fred, whose eyes lit up.

“Do ya have any ones? I mean aces?” Fred said.

Griffin shook his head, blinking irritably behind his glasses. “How do you always guess what I have?!”

Gabe winked, Fred taking the ace with a grin to Gabe.

“Gabriel, how’s it going?”

Gabe turned, eyebrows lifting into an innocent look. “Great! How are you doing, Wayne?”

Wayne Whittaker, neighbor and the administrator and boss of Sunset Fields, stood watching him with a subdued smile. “There’s an issue with Ms. Golden’s phone not working. Could you take a look at it?”

“Sure thing,” Gabe grinned, heading toward Goldy’s room, his neighbor Melanie’s grandmother.

“The residents really seem to like you,” Wayne grinned.

“Aw. They’re great.” 

Wayne stopped just outside Goldy’s room. “Shame about Gary.”

Gabe stopped, staring at the man. “Yeah. What exactly happened to him?”

Wayne rocked back on his heels a bit, his eyes shifting back and forth. “Weeeell...I’m pretty sure it was aliens.”

Gabe, master of tricks and joking around, froze. He was completely caught off guard. “Say what, now?”

Wayne nodded with a look of absolute certainty. “I know. No one wants to believe it, but it’s true! Aliens. They take you at night and sometimes the things they do are too much for a man to take.”

“What?!” Gabe laughed, stifling it a little at the look of Wayne’s irritation. “Oh...you’re serious!” Gabe actually whimpered to stop himself from bursting out laughing. “I just gotta...I better fix Goldy’s phone.” He went into her room, laughing. “This town is nuts!”

Goldy blinked at him from her bed. She had long, dark brown hair with only a few silver strands, despite her age, that she often wore in a high bun. Today it was down as she was laying in bed. Gabe shushed himself, seeing she was lying down. He walked over to her. “Hey, Goldy!” He said softly.

“Hi, sugar,” she whispered, not smiling as brightly as she usually did.

“I’m here to look at your phone, okay?”

“Call my Melanie,” she whispered.

Gabe fiddled with the phone, checking all the plugs. He found a loose connection and tested it, hearing the dial tone. “Now you’re in business!” He dialed Melanie’s phone number as she recited it to him, then handed her the phone, heading on to his office to see what was next on his to-do list.

********************************************

Sam spent his morning working-out in the backyard, listening for any sign of the Smiths or Fletcher. The house was quiet so far. He finally went inside, getting a drink from the fridge as Cas came down the stairs.

“Morning,” Sam grinned.

“Morning.”

“I see you never made it back to the Dowling House.”

Cas grinned, moving to the coffee pot, avoiding eye contact. “It was...after nine by the time we got back to town.”

“You left town? Where did you go?” Sam sat down at the table, watching Cas with amusement.

Cas, after drinking several long swallows of coffee, grinned boyishly. “I don’t even know where we were! A park...a Walmart...then we came back here.”

“With a bed,” Sam added.

Cas sighed. “You saw that?”

“Dude, the bedroom door was wide open. You guys bought a bed?”

Cas chuckled, adding more sugar to his coffee, stirring it slowly. 

Dean’s heavy footfalls came down the stairs before he entered the kitchen. “We bought a bed,” he announced, like the older brother he was. Dean tended to just buy Sam what he thought he needed.

“Dude!” Sam exclaimed. “Would you stop buying me furniture?”

“I will,” Dean asserted, moving around Cas to get coffee with way more comfort than he had ever shown around the guy. “When you have all you need, I’ll stop buying you furniture.”

Sam shook his head. “Sick of the couch already? Or it just wasn’t big enough to hold you both?”

Cas grinned, taking another sip of coffee. Dean gave Sam a bit of a warning look but smiled easily enough after seeing Cas’ face.

“So...Cas needs a new place to crash. Ms. Dowling is a bitch. And the couch is fine, but...”

“But I’m better company,” Cas added.

Sam shook his head again in amusement. “Guess the date went well.”

“Yeah,” they both answered, neither giving much away.

“Good news,” Dean pointed at Sam, coming to sit at the table with his steaming mug, “there is civilization outside of Charming Acres. Just five miles down the road there’s a Walmart with normal, grouchy people working shady hours and smelling like B.O.”

“Gross,” Sam scoffed.

“He did smell terrible!” Cas scowled, looking at Dean.

“Right?” Dean laughed. “Dude at the register seriously needed a shower.”

“You bought an entire bed and all the bedding at a Walmart,” Sam clarified.

“At 2am,” Dean added.

“And then brought it in and put it together,” Cas sighed, still looking quite sleepy.

“I figured you could keep it for your guest bedroom or Cas or I will take it with us,” Dean went on.

Sam couldn’t stop looking between the two of them. The change in Dean was pretty telling. He couldn’t remember the last time Dean looked so happy and relaxed. “And the date went well,” he stated again.

“Really well,” Cas grinned. “I’m gonna grab a quick shower before I go get my things from the Dowling House.” He left the room, Dean looking up at him with an uncertain grin.

“Really well,” Dean added, not needing prompting a third time.

Sam leaned forward, all ears. “What happened?”

Dean shook his head gently, his eyes going soft and green. “He’s...” Dean shook his head again, looking flabbergasted. “We ate at the Dowling House and...”

“Dude. Details.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “‘Kay. She made pot roast. It sucked.”

Sam’s grin went wider, and he leaned forward a little further. “The GOOD details.”

Dean scoffed, looked like he wasn’t going to crack, and then broke into a wide grin. “He, ya know, kissed me.”

Sam leaned back, grinning.

“Then we went to Harrington’s and found out about Gary!”

“Right?” Sam frowned.

“Yeah. Then we walked around town and up and down Lily Dale and...”

“And?” Sam grinned.

“And we went for a ride. We found a park and...we made out like teenagers, okay? You’re as bad as nosy Nellie!”

“Dude. That’s harsh,” Sam frowned.

“You’re right,” Dean amended. “I take that back. Then we started heading back and figured out Cas couldn’t get into his room and the couch is...small, and he hated the air mattress, and, oh! He bought a duvet. Wait until ya see this thing. It’s…you’re gonna want one.”

“And then,” Sam prompted.

“We went to sleep. It was like four in the morning before we had the frame together and the bed made so we both lay on it try it out and fell asleep.”

Sam glanced toward the steps. “You two didn’t...”

“No!” Dean scoffed, more from discomfort than prudishness. “No. We kissed a lot but...no.”

Sam tilted his head to the side. There weren’t many moments when Dean was vulnerable. But at the moment, he looked like a kid with his first crush. “You really like him.”

Dean looked up, meeting his eyes. “I really like him.” The moment hung in the air until Sam cracked a huge grin, Dean blushing and fidgeting with his coffee mug.

“You know he probably knows everything about you. I mean...Gabe knows all about Dad and Samuel and -”

“Yeah,” Dean scoffed with amusement. “I can tell. And it just makes everything easier. He already heard about all the shit I’ve done, and he still looks at me like...”

“Like you’re awesome,” Sam supplied softly, knowing it to be true. “Cas always asks about you when we talk. He’d get the funniest tone when he asked about you and Aaron. I could tell he hated the guy without ever meeting him.”

Dean shook his head. “I dunno why he likes me, but I might as well enjoy it while it lasts.”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “He likes you because you’re a great guy, Dean. And you deserve a great guy in return. Don’t sell yourself short.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’m awesome.”

Sam smirked. Oh great. He didn’t know which was more difficult to deal with, quiet, nervous Dean or cocky Dean. His brother really needed to find some middle ground when it came to his self-image. “Well, I’m glad you’ll both be staying here. It’s been weird with Cas having to leave every night.”

Dean nodded. “So, what’s the deal with Gary? Nellie keeps saying she bet the wife did something to him.”

Sam’s amusement with Dean and Cas disappeared as he grabbed the paper from the corner of the table and slid it over to him. Dean took it, staring at the headline. ‘Charming Acres is voted the safest town in the USA again!’ “Gary’s obituary is back on page eight.”

“No article?” Dean frowned.

“No. This town appears more worried about its reputation than the truth,” Sam stated bitterly. “I called Sully today and he said the local coroner is a friend of the father of one of his students, or something like that, and yesterday he was upset because he’d never seen anything like what happened to Gary. He said his heart was a pile of mush.”

“Ew,” Dean stated.

“Right? And get this, the obituary says he died of ‘heart complications’.”

Dean stared at the article suspiciously. He lay the paper down. “It’s Lily Dale, Sam. No one wants there to BE any problems, so they just make the problems disappear.”

“No,” Sam shook his head, unwilling to accept that mentality. “If this is going to be MY home, I’m finding out what happened to Gary.”

Dean nodded. “I’m in. So we go fishing. Give me some bait and a trap, I’ll haul in the truth.”

“You think Chip Harrington really has a gag order on the entire Charming Acres police department?”

“And how many cops is that? Two? Three? Yeah. That would be my guess. Makes you wonder what else goes on without being reported.”

***

After a bit of research, Sam found out there were five members of Charming Acres police force. Sheriff Donna Hanscum (who had moved to Charming Acres a whopping two months ago), Doug Kontos - a four-year veteran, two older cops, and a coroner. 

****

Sam shut his laptop with a sigh, rubbing his eyes when Dean and Cas walked in with a late lunch that day.

“We picked up lunch, brainiac,” Dean smirked, both men setting down bags and cups from Fat Mack’s Barbecue Rib Shack. 

“Nice!” Sam stood up, stretching as Gabe walked in from work on his hour lunch break, looking adorable in his blue uniform. “Hey!”

“Hi!” Gabe stopped to kiss him, looking at all the food. “This is awesome!”

“The casseroles are gone,” Dean said, pulling burgers from one bag, piling them on the table.

“And Sam has been researching all day,” Cas added, pulling cups of fries and onion rings out of another bag.

“Research?” Gabe asked, already pulling his work shirt off. “For what?”

“So, I did some digging,” Sam said, getting up to put his laptop on the counter out of spilling-range, “and get this, ALL five of the police officers in Charming Acres have major ties to Chip Harrington. Two are his nephews and one is married to his wife’s best friend. The sheriff, Donna Hanscum, is brand new to the area, but she’s engaged to one of Chip’s nephews. The dispatcher is a local lady who’s married to a guy that works in the mayor’s office!”

“Did I miss something?” Gabe asked, looking around at the three of them.

Cas handed his brother a soda. “Sam feels certain that the police department here is corrupt. He thinks they are covering up crimes to keep Charming Acres motto of ‘the safest town in the USA’.”

“Sonny certainly made it sound like her own father was corrupt and controlling the police.” Gabe sat down, pulling two burgers closer to himself.

“Sully said the coroner said Gary’s heart ‘exploded’. Now the paper says cause of death was ‘heart issues’,” Sam asserted.

“Something’s fishy around here,” Dean sighed, biting into a huge burger with barbecue sauce, cheese, onions, and mushrooms.

“My boss has it all figured out already,” Gabe chuckled, taking a big bite of his burger.

“Oh yeah?” Sam asked. 

Gabe swallowed his bite. “Yeah. Wayne Whittaker says, and I quote, aliens did it.”

“What?” Dean scoffed.

Sam and Cas frowned at the absurd notion.

“I thought you were being serious,” Sam smirked.

“Wayne was being serious! He even went on about how some people’s bodies can’t hack the probing!”

Dean stammered into a hard laugh, Gabe joining him.

“That’s ridiculous,” Cas said dismissively, Sam agreeing.

“We need to figure out what happened to Gary,” Sam said, the three of them refocusing.

“So...take Deb a casserole or something. Isn’t that what these people do?” Gabe suggested.

Dean pointed at him; mouth too full to get any words out.

“We should do that,” Cas interpreted.

“Who knows how to make a casserole?” Gabe asked.

They all exchanged clueless glances. “Cas and I will figure it out. Then we can take it over to her house tonight.” Cas gave Dean a curious and amused smirk, taking another bite of his burger. Dean grinned back, looking a little shy about it.

“Alright Scooby-gang, let the mystery solving begin!” Gabe grinned.

“Ooo, I’m Fred,” Dean grinned.

“I’m Fred,” Sam smirked. “You’re Shaggy.”

Dean gave a staunch bitchface number nine. “Gabe is Shaggy. All day. No question. That makes you Scooby.”

“Scooby is the star of the show,” Cas grinned.

“Okay, Velma,” Gabe, Sam, and Dean quipped, laughing.

“Jinkies,” he smirked.


	7. Freaking Suburbs, Man!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys begin their A+, top-dog sleuthing! Time to question some neighbors!!!
> 
> A little domestic life and even more odd neighborhood drama!
> 
> Hope you are all well! Thanks to all of you for joining me on this nutty adventure! <3

Chapter 7: Freaking Suburbs, Man!

“That smells pretty good,” Cas commented as he covered the top of Sam’s baking dish with foil, enclosing a fragrant breakfast casserole of egg, sausage, cheese, onions, and peppers. Dean wiped the last of the mess off the counter and dusted his hands off. The day had flown by. He and Cas had not stayed together all day, but they kept gravitating back to one another. 

Dean could have watched Cas chop vegetables for hours. He made it look like an art form. He made him want to eat vegetables. There was something graceful about the way he wielded a knife. 

It was all baffling.

What baffled him the most was how interested Cas was in him. In what he was doing or what he thought about things. They’d had a ten-minute conversation about toothpaste preference! 

“Are we ready?” Sam asked, rubbing his hands together.

“Uh, yeah,” Dean said. “The casserole is cool enough to carry now.”

Cas leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “So...we deliver the casserole and what? Ask how Gary died?”

“No!” Sam scowled. “We have to, ya know...talk to her.”

“It’ll be like a fishing expedition,” Dean explained.

Cas still looked mildly confused.

“Just listen, Dean and I will do the questioning,” Sam said.

Gabe came into the kitchen with a bowl of grapes. “Or be like me and stay here.”

“You aren’t coming?” Cas asked, looking concerned.

“I’ll just wait here. I’m not pestering the widow -”

“Murderer,” Dean supplied.

“Mmmm, or murderer,” Gabe added. “No thank you.”

“You chicken,” Dean smirked, following Sam out the kitchen door.

“Call me names, Dean. But I’m gonna be the guy left behind to explain to the cops why you three are harassing Deb Frieling.”

“Bye,” Sam grinned, kissing him.

“Bye! Take notes! Do you wanna watch a quick YouTube video on homemade polygraph tests first?”

“We’ll save that for round two,” Dean countered.

“Round two?” Cas asked nervously. “There will be more than one round of questioning?”

They crossed the side yard, heading for Deb’s porch. Dean pulled Cas close to him. “We gotta ask some warm-up questions first, make her comfortable, build some trust. Then next time, we’ll ask the harder questions and get some answers. You gotta take it slow.”

Sam rang Deb’s doorbell, clearing his throat as Dean held the casserole like a sacrificial offering. Cas frowned again. “I think you watch too many cop shows.”

“We got this,” Sam assured him, ringing the bell again.

“I’m tellin’ ya,” Dean said under his breath, “the misses probably caught sight of Gary’s car parked outside that by-the-hour, fleabag motel with the neighbor and it somehow got him in the ticker.”

Cas frowned, but quickly schooled his confusion when Deb answered the door, dabbing fresh tears from her cheeks. Dean assumed they were fake tears. Why else would a murderer be crying?

“Hello,” Deb said.

“Hi,” Sam grinned kindly. “We wanted to stop in and share our sympathies and a casserole with you.”

“That’s nice,” she sniffled, backing up easily to let all three of them inside and follow her to the kitchen. The place was more updated than Sammy’s house.

“You can just pop this in the oven and heat it up when you might need it,” Sam said, sitting the pan on the counter, Deb standing on one side of her kitchen island as the three of them stood on the other.

“This has all been so crazy,” Deb said, dabbing her nose again.

“I’m sure,” Sam nodded.

“I just wish I understood what happened to him!” Deb choked out, sniffling again. Sam nodded with perfect sympathy.

Dean watched with some surprise as Cas neared the counter. “Now, Mrs. Frieling, I don’t want to bother you, I really don’t...but I do have one question.”

Deb blinked up at him with watery eyes.

“Why’d you kill your husband?”

“Cas!” Dean snatched him by the arm, pulling him aside as Deb looked horrified and started crying.

“Strike one, Sherlock! What are ya doin?” Dean hissed.

“I was being bad cop,” Cas explained.

“You were being bad everything!” Dean gave Deb an apologetic grin. “Watch Sam,” he insisted.

Sam, trying not to look horrified, took the stool across from Deb. “Sorry about that. He’s been...going through some stuff. What I think he was trying to ask was, is there any way Gary might have had some secrets? Something he was hiding?”

“Hiding?” Deb asked, looking lost. “Like what?”

A knock sounded on the front door and then opened, making all of them turn to see who was comfortable enough to just knock and come straight inside. 

“Deb?’

“Olivia!” Deb half ran to her, both women crying and hugging each other.

Dean’s brows jumped. “That’s mistress Olivia,” Dean said under his breath to Cas.

“This is awkward,” Cas said flatly.

The women separated, both swiping tears away. “I’m sorry,” Deb said, trying to keep herself together, “what did you think Gary was hiding?”

“That he was sleeping with her,” Cas pointed at Olivia.

Dean thought he might die. Sam looked like he might short circuit.

Deb and Olivia exchanged a look. As a beat of silence passed through the group, Dean realized the women were exchanging guilty looks.

“I know,” Deb said quietly.

Realization dawned a second time as Dean’s eyes went wide.

Sam, looking as stunned as Dean, repeated her words with shock. “You know?”

“Gary and I...” Deb explain nervously, “we had an arrangement. He was seeing Olivia...and I was...spending some time with our neighbor, PJ.”

Sam and Dean nodded as if that made perfect everyday sense.

“I’ll, uh, put this in the fridge,” Olivia said, blushing fiercely.

“I’ll, uh, help you,” Deb insisted, the two turning around to the kitchen as the three of them stood back in shock.

Dean shook his head. “Friggin’ suburbs, man!”

Cas, still frowning, looking utterly lost, reasoned, “So, she’s not the killer. What is she?”

“She’s the best wife EVER,” Dean snickered. 

“Then, what killed her husband?” Cas asked.

“Who gives a fuck!” Dean laughed.

Sam shrugged his shoulder, watching the two women. “Cas already blew this wide open. We might as well ask what we want.”

Dean’s brows jumped again. He leaned closer whispering sternly, “You two are officially the WORST cops EVER.”

Sam smirked as Cas frowned.

“I disagree,” Cas argued. “Your method would have taken entirely too long. Haven’t you watched 48 hours?”

“Okay,” Dean sniped. “YOU are the one watching too many cop shows. Not me.”

“Deb,” Sam began gently, approaching the island again. “What did you mean when you said you don’t know what happened to him?”

Olivia and Deb exchanged tearful, guilty looks. “I was the one with him,” Olivia confessed. “We were...spending the evening together.”

Sam, pulling off a very nonjudgmental look for the wild situation, said gently, “Go on.”

Deb nodded at Olivia, who was ringing her hands. “We met at the park across from the Moonlight Motel. I brought us dinner.” She sniffled, Deb rubbing her back comfortingly. “We had dinner in the motel room and...and shortly after, just before we...he started not feeling well.” Her hands started to shake as she stared at the counter, reliving the memory. “He got real...stiff. He couldn’t breathe right. I managed to get him into the car and brought him home.”

Deb, looking just as haunted, went on. “They barely made it into the living room before Gary just fell to the floor and...he sort of shook. But he was still very stiff. And then...he kept saying ‘my chest’. I called 911 but...he died before they got here.” Both women looked up at them with equal sorrow. “I know our marriage was unorthodox, but I loved Gary very much.” She started crying again. “And so did Olivia.”

Sam turned, looking back at him and Cas. Yeah, something was up. And it wasn’t the wife. And it wasn’t the girlfriend. They waited for a moment as Olivia turned to busy herself with putting the casserole in the refrigerator. Deb got herself together again and wiped her tears away with a tissue. “I think he was poisoned.”

Sam looked as shocked as Dean felt. “W-why? What makes you think that?”

Deb glared toward her living room. “It wasn’t a heart attack. The coroner said his heart was...destroyed! It was...”

“Mush,” Cas supplied, earning another wide-eyed stare from Dean and Sam.

Deb nodded, fighting tears again.

“But who would want to hurt him? PJ?” Sam asked.

Deb waved that thought off. “No. PJ and Gary got along fine.”

“Even though you were sleeping with him?” Dean asked, joining the insanely forwardness of Sam and Cas.

She nodded, her cheeks blushing. “It’s a...we’re...”

“Swingers?” Cas supplied again, like he was on the most bizarre version of Jeopardy ever.

She nodded. “The Bermans, us, and Olivia and Naoki all...swing.”

Dean shook his head, completely dumbfounded. This was the kind of shit you read about, or saw on TV, not your own freakin’ neighbors!

“So,” Sam went on calmly, “if it wasn’t someone within your group, who do you think would hurt him?”

Deb and Olivia exchanged a look again before Deb faced Sam more confidently. “Gary was getting into a business deal with that jackass down the street, Don Stark. I warned Gary that we didn’t have enough money to be backing their plans for a strip mall, but Justin, Cindy, PJ, and Linda, mostly Linda, had him convinced he could do it.” Her eyes darted from Sam to Dean and to Cas. “We couldn’t afford it. He told them as much and...I don’t know, honestly, I stay out of managing the money around here for the most part. But when I saw that he was about to mortgage our house in the deal, I put my foot down.” She shook her head with a mixture of fear and agony. “Ever since he told them we couldn’t do it; they all keep hounding him. Kept hounding him.” Her eyes began to water again. “Had I known they would attack him...”

Olivia put her arm around Deb, hugging her as she began crying again. “Stark is a ruthless businessman. The whole plan is...wrong.”

Sam nodded, biting his lips together in thought. “I’m so sorry for your loss. Gary seemed like a very nice man.”

Deb pulled away from Olivia, sniffling and wiping at her tears again. “The police won’t do anything. They said it was a heart attack!”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “We kinda caught onto that.”

“And Chip Harrington wants that strip mall too,” Olivia added.

“Wow,” Dean said, stepping back. “This is...a lot more complicated than we thought.”

Deb gave him a questioning look. “What did you think?”

Dean winced, not wanting to sound crass.

Cas piped in again. “We thought one of you killed him. Dean thought it was you,” he said with blatant honesty, looking at Deb, “but I wasn’t convinced it wasn’t you,” he admitted, looking at Olivia.

Both women shook their heads, repulsed.

“Okay,” Dean grinned, not knowing how to shut Cas up or even what the hell to make of this whole situation.

“We’ll do some digging,” Sam assured them. “I’m not sure what we can do, but we can try.”

“Thank you,” both women said quietly.

“We’ll see ourselves out,” Sam smiled apologetically, bowing his head slightly as he began backing out of the kitchen. Dean whacked Cas’ elbow lightly, prompting him to move.

The three left the house silently, crossed the side yard and went into Sam’s house, stopping abruptly in the kitchen where Gabe still sat at the table, looking up from his phone as they came in.

“Cas!” Dean blew. “What the hell!”

Cas threw both his hands up, eyes going wide with innocence. “I think I was very helpful.”

Sam scoffed.

“What happened?” Gabe asked.

“Velma here got a case of Bad Boys in there!”

Gabe looked at Cas, confused.

“In all fairness, I have never seen an episode of Scooby-Doo,” Cas admitted. 

“What?!” Dean blanched.

“I have seen memes. And I have seen Bad Boys,” Cas frowned.

“Well, there ya go, Mike Lowrey. Way ta bust in there and lay the smack down.”

“So...she kicked you out?” Gabe guessed.

“No,” Sam relented.

Cas’ eyes lit up. He held a hand out to Sam, then Dean. “Go ahead, tell Gabe all the information I got from my ‘smack down’.”

“Okay,” Dean rolled his eyes. “You don’t gotta air quote at me.” Dean shook his head. Dammit. Cas was adorable no matter what he was doing. Even when he was being...what the hell was he being? Cas-like!

**********************************************************

Castiel followed Wayne around Sunset Fields. It was not the nicest nursing home he had been in, but it was small, and the residents seemed happy enough.  
It was clean, and the staff seemed friendly. The first interview had been with Wayne, who then sat in while one of the building’s RNs interviewed him. After a very brief meeting, where Castiel waited in the front lobby, Wayne came back out and offered him the job with a warm grin and limp handshake. Castiel accepted it, not sure this was quite the right move for himself, but thankful to have employment. Now, they were doing a brief walk through. He couldn’t start for another few days until his fingerprint and background checks were in, but he looked forward to the kind of work he could walk away from at night. Living with his clients for the last several years had made him feel like he was always on duty. The more he thought about settling into a job that you clocked in and out of, the more he looked forward to it.

The hallways were a plain shade of white, along with the tile floors. There were only around 60 residents in total, making the facility small enough to feel manageable. He would have to wear scrubs again, which he also didn’t mind returning to. The residents rooms varied from carpeted and nicely furnished, to more clinical looking. The varying rooms depended on the rate the resident could afford to pay, and how much their family decorated.

Wayne stopped at his office, picking up the last form Cas would need to complete and bring with him. After handing him the form, Wayne sat on the corner of his desk, crossing his arms over his chest. “So...shame about Gary.”

Cas nodded. “It is. He seemed like a very nice man.” Cas remembered yesterday’s questioning of Deb and felt a pang of guilt about it. He also remembered Gabe saying Wayne thought it was aliens, which was certainly out of the box thinking. “I understand you think he may have been...abducted.”

Wayne’s face lit up. “I do!” He looked slightly sheepish and shrugged his heavily suit-padded shoulders and said, “I know it’s not a popular opinion, it never is, but,” he got up, rounding his desk pulling out a thick, stapled pack of papers and handed them to Cas, “I’ve been researching for years and abductions happen all the time! They’re reported all over the world!”

Castiel took the pack, glancing at the bold titles and poorly photocopied pictures.

“I’ve been trying to tell people for years that THIS is the reason people go missing. And in some cases, can’t survive the probings!”

Cas wanted to offer his opinion that if this were the case, and were his research more sound, he surely would have gotten more recognition by now, but he held his tongue. After all, this man was now his boss. He closed the pack and looked back at Wayne. “What makes you think he didn’t survive alien testing?”

Wayne shrugged again. “Rumors. I heard his heart was...well...that it wasn’t your average heart attack.”

“Does the coroner here make a habit of sharing findings with you and everyone in Charming Acres?”

Wayne’s mouth wobbled slightly and looked more nervous than he had before. “No. My wife...she hears things.”

“Your wife,” Cas nodded, realizing he was making the man uncomfortable, nodded along. “Right.”

“It’s just a theory,” Wayne grinned, taking the packet back a little more roughly than he had given it to him. He put it back in his desk and ushered Cas back into the hallway.

They walked along the final hallway more quietly than before and Cas hoped he had not given away how bizarre he thought the man was. Surely that would not start him off on a good foot in his new job.

“I think you’ll make an excellent addition to our home,” Wayne said. 

“Thank you. I look forward to joining you as soon as my paperwork comes through.”

He shook Wayne’s hand when they got to the lobby again.

“I’ll be in touch, Mr. Novak,” Wayne said.

Castiel left Sunset Fields, feeling like he had some direction in his life again. Like another piece to the puzzle of what lay ahead for him was in place. He opened a new app on his phone and began searching for homes to buy. The trouble was, he really didn’t know what he was looking for. An apartment to rent? A house to buy? What sort of house? He walked back to Gabe and Sam’s house, looking at it in a new light. Why had they chosen this specific house? What had sold them? The porch? The number of rooms? It had to be a combination of things. Location already decided, he wondered if Charming Acres was what kept him feeling so thrown off here. Everything else was falling into place so nicely. It was the town that bothered him.

“Hey!” Sam greeted him, looking up from his laptop at the kitchen table. “How’d it go?”

“I got the job,” Cas grinned, wishing he felt more enthusiastic about it.

“So, you liked it there? Gabe likes it.”

“Yes, it seems like a pretty nice place.” He picked up an apple from a fruit bowl on the counter, turning it in his hands. “I start in a few days.”

Sam grinned. “You know there’s no rush for you to move out, right? I mean, you’re welcome to keep using the guest room. Especially since you seem to not mind sharing it with my brother.” Sam smirked up at him.

Cas grinned down at the apple. It was light greenish yellow with several splotches of red. A Honey Crisp, according to the little sticker on it. They were sweet and his favorite kind. “I hope it wasn’t rude of us to buy a bed and set it up. I thought it was presumptuous, but Dean insisted you would be amenable.”

“Yeah! No! It’s all good, Cas.” Sam sat back in the chair, frowning at his computer screen. “I’m glad you guys are around. This town just continues to disappoint. Did you know that Chip Harrington owns close to all the shops on Prosperity Road? And from what I can tell, what he doesn’t own, Don Stark does. It’s like those two are buying up the town!”

“I did not know that.”

The front door banged shut and rushing footsteps brought Dean into the kitchen looking quite excited. “Cas! Did ya get the job?”

“I did,” he grinned again, amused already with Dean.

“Sweet!” Dean made a beeline for Sam. “C’mon! Don just drove up the street! We can catch him at home if we move quick!”

Sam closed the laptop, getting to his feet.

“What’s going on?” Cas asked.

“We’re going to talk to Don Stark,” Dean said quickly, backing out of the kitchen, Sam leaving with him.

Cas put the apple back in the bowl, following them. “You’re really going to the Stark’s house?”

“Yeah. Not you, bad cop,” Dean warned.

“I could be your third wheel!” Cas argued.

Dean froze in his steps, turning to Cas with a baffled look. “You know that’s not a good thing, right?”

“Of course it is!” Cas disagreed. “A third wheel adds extra grip, greater stability.” 

Sam stifled a laugh as Dean froze again, looking quite amused with him. “Fine. But you button it, Detective Lowrey.”

Cas huffed. “I will remain silent.”

Dean gave him a look, wondering if that would be possible. Sam sighed. 

“You stay absolutely silent,” Dean warned.

Cas gave him a thumbs-up. Already holding his first thought, that these two were as nosy as nosy Nellie. But they were helping Deb, so there was some merit in that.

They walked past Melanie’s house, then Sue’s, then up the driveway and to the wide front door of the Stark’s home. The bust of Don Stark on a pedestal at the head of the driveway was surrounded by dead flowers.

“I see the weed killer kicked in,” Cas noted.

Dean glanced at it, Sam following his gaze, giving the crusty, shriveled, brown twigs a quizzical look. “Told ya,” Dean said over his shoulder to Cas. He looked over his other shoulder at Sam. “Maggie and Don were arguing when Cas and I walked by the other night. She came out here and sprayed weed killer on his altar to himself.”

“What kinda guy has a statue of themselves in front of their own house,” Sam said, baffled.

Dean waited until Sam met his eyes and with all the seriousness of a judge and said, “Douches, Sam. Douches do shit like that. Now come on! We gotta crack this murdering sonofabitch. Game faces, people!”

Sam and Cas exchanged a quick look before flanking Dean from behind.

Dean knocked on the large front door, licking his lips nervously. Cas wanted to ask if they had a plan, but he held his tongue.

Dean rang the doorbell.

The door opened, Don Stark staring at all of them with disinterested politeness. “Hello. What can I do for you gentlemen?”

“Hey there, Mr. Stark,” Dean grinned, his hands sliding into his pockets. “We were wondering if we could have just a few minutes of your time.”

Don Stark, mid-forties, hair dyed brown, eyes sharp, was slow to warm up to anyone, it seemed. He swished bourbon in a glass and after eyeing each of them for a moment, he backed up and let them inside. 

Dean and Sam exchanged the briefest look and Cas assumed they were excited to have gained entry. Don led the way through a foyer lined with expensive paintings, marble floors, and a chandelier. The house was beautiful from the outside, but on the inside, it was the nicest house Castiel had ever set foot in. Unfortunately for his curiosity, Don’s office was just off the foyer, so they did not get to see more of the house. 

The three of them followed Don into his office where he circled behind his desk, already going back to flipping through a file that lay open on it. “As I said before, how can help you gentlemen?” He glanced up, but Dean seemed to freeze slightly under the pressure. 

Sam quickly stepped up, taking on his ‘work voice’. “Mr. Stark, we understand you were in business with Gary. A, uh, shopping center, I believe?”

“Yes, I was,” Don said smoothly.

“Well, we were wondering if there were more details to that plan.” At the lift of Don’s brow, Sam stammered on. “I, we, it just seems like if you lost a partner in it, which, not to be insensitive, but you did, that you might be interested in another partner.” Sam sighed.

Wow. Sam sucked at lying.

Don seemed to take him at him at his word anyway. His eyes flitted calmly over the three of them. “You’re interested in investing?”

“Maybe,” Dean grinned. “We would need to know more about the plan. And who else is involved.”

Don nodded, pursing his lips with interest. Before he could go on, a knock on the office door had them all glancing to see Cindy Smith standing there with dry cleaned suits held on one shoulder and a broad smile.

“Oh, hi, Cindy,” Don grinned, easing into a real grin for the first time. Cas had forgotten that Cindy was Don’s personal assistant. “These gentlemen are here with some interest in our shopping center project.”

“Oh! Fabulous!” Her wide eyes lit up impossibly brighter as she glanced at them. “I’m off to the dry cleaner and then to Beaman, Beaman, and Beaman for those contracts.”

“Wonderful,” he grinned at her a bit more slyly this time. “Hurry back, you know how things fall apart without you.”

“Oh!” She waved him off with a flirty grin. “Oh! I baked you some cupcakes! The coconut ones you love.”

“What would I do without you,” he smiled at her with a lazy, flirty grin, winking at her. Cas glanced at Dean, who glanced at both he and Sam. They were all picking up on some vibes between the two.

“Oh stop,” she giggled, waving him off again. 

Don, reading the judgement that must be on all their faces, looked at them all steadily. “What? She bakes cupcakes.”

“Yummy,” Dean smirked.

“So, what exactly did you want to know about the shopping center project?” Don went on.

“Um,” Sam piped in, “actually, would you mind if I use your bathroom? Sorry. Too much java this morning.”

“Yeah, around the corner, down the hall,” Don pointed.

“Thanks.” Sam left the office. Cas tried not to frown in wonder at this. He knew Sam better than to have a small bladder at a moment like this. He was also quite curious to see where Dean was going with this business deal.

“So,” Dean started, his voice a little huskier than normal with nervousness, “you own a lot of places in this town.”

Don nodded. His body language read all relaxed-business-persona so far. “Yes. I’ve demonstrated my love for this town. I think it’s safe to say I’m respected for what I’ve done here.”

Dean nodded, attempting to look impressed.

From the corner of his eye, Cas saw Sam snooping through mail laying on a table in the foyer. Cas cleared his throat nervously. Was Sam searching the house? He gave Don a grin as Don began to talk about some of the properties and investments around Charming Acres. He caught a flash of Sam going up the steps and tugged at the collar of his suit that he still wore from his interview. This was terribly risky.

Dean pointed at one of the photos on the wall, reading something on it. “Don, take no prisoners. D Trump. Ah, a Trumpster!”

“Yep,” Don said easily, perching on the desk. “Like I said, success breeds fierce competition.”

Well, that was enough for Castiel to lose all faith in this man. If he idolized Donald Trump, then it was possible Don Stark was responsible for mass genocide. Don must have caught his look because he smiled smoothly. “Well, I certainly won’t be voting for the man again.”

Castiel tried to relax his shoulders and give the man a reassuring smile. “I am...not a fan,” Cas said, glancing at Dean guiltily as he had broken his promised silence.

Dean gave him a warm, quick grin before turning back to Don. “Yeah, me...ever. Actually, it makes me question your politics,” Dean said to Don matter-of-factly. 

“Now that you’ve brought that to my attention,” Don turned, taking the framed picture off the wall, and chucked it into the garbage can next to his desk, “I’ll be getting rid of that.”

Castiel physically bit his lip to not enter into a tirade of facts highlighting the slew of injustices and heinous business ventures the Cheeto-faced waste of space had done over the years, let alone the mockery he had made of the office of presidency.

Dean gave him an understanding glance before turning back to Mr. Stark.

Don lifted a shoulder in blithe acceptance. “Like I said,” he glanced up as Sam came back into the office with a stern set to his jaw, “everyone here in Charming Acres respects and admires me.”

“Including your wife?” Sam asked, both Cas and Dean tried to curb their surprise, looking expectantly at Don again. “Sorry, it’s just we heard you and your wife might be splitting up, right?” He looked at Dean for confirmation.

Dean stammered slightly but managed to look at Don fairly confidently. “Yeah, that’s what we heard.”

“Yeah, Maggie and I are going through a tough time,” Don admitted quietly, looking down. “Trial separation. It’s temporary.” He looked back up at them, maintaining his calm demeanor. “Sometimes you grow apart. It’s no one’s fault.”

The room paused in awkward silence and Castiel could hold his tongue no longer. “We are interested in this business venture we’ve heard about, but we’re hesitant to get into investing when it seems you, we assume you are the major stock holder, might be soon entering into financial difficulties if there is a divorce.”

Dean and Sam gave him a quick look of thanks for rescuing the conversation.

Don nodded. “There’s no need for concern. It was a marital misunderstanding that will surely blow over soon.”

“She caught ya cheatin’, huh?” Dean asked, looking at a framed picture of Maggie on the mantle behind Don.

Don gave him an incredulous look.

“I couldn’t help but notice things are kinda ‘cordial’ between you and your assistant,” Dean went on, smirking. Don laughed as if that were ridiculous. “Pretty good with the ladies there, Mr. Stark? It’s a blessing and a curse,” Dean nodded as if he shared the same troubles, earning him a scathing look from Cas.

“Guys, I’m a people person and...I admire dynamic, confident women.”

“Admire?” Sam pressed. 

“Okay,” Don sighed, “look, it’s true I had a recent little...thing with a business associate, but that’s all it was.”

“A thing,” Dean repeated, animosity thick in his words. “A thing,” he said again to Cas and Sam.

“Like a...shoe,” Sam said sarcastically, glancing at him.

“A golf club,” Cas offered back.

“A waffle iron,” Dean added with a fake, amused smile. “No, see, Don, wives (or husbands) generally see an affair as more than ‘a thing’.”

“Yes,” Don admitted, “and when she found out about it, she needed some time off...temporarily...”

“Hm,” Dean grinned.

“Wendy was...well, it’s most definitely over,” Don assured, his nerves beginning to show.

“Wait,” Sam frowned. “Not Wendy Goodson?”

Don gave a pained, guilty nod. “Yes.”

Sam whacked Dean’s arm. “Wendy Goodson owned the house we live in now.”

“Oh,” Dean nodded, but Castiel had no idea why that would matter.

“She died,” Sam stated.

Oh...yes, that might be...of importance.

“So, let me get this straight,” Dean clarified, “you had an affair with Wendy, and she died...how?”

“A mishap with her blow dryer,” Don said quietly.

“So, an ‘accident’,” Cas said, not curbing his suspicion at all and forgetting to not air quote as Dean teased him for.

“If it was an accident,” Dean stated, dropping it like a bomb.

“If you’re implying -” Don started.

“I’m not implying,” Dean grinned. 

“No, her death had nothing to do with the affair. It was over long before the accident,” Don said, his voice rising for the first time.

“Uh huh,” Dean nodded, not buying it.

“If you think Maggie had anything to do with it -” Don began.

“No,” Sam cut him off, “we’re not saying that. But...you should be careful. And take her to dinner. And apologize.”

Don looked regretful.

“Yeah, and grovel,” Dean added, edging them out of the office and toward the front door, Don following them.

“Look guys, we can still discuss a business deal. This won’t affect the shopping center plans!”

“We’ll, uh, think on it,” Sam nodded, continuing to exit.

They left the Stark home, Sam pointing out more dead plants on the porch. Only when they were back on Sam’s front porch did they discuss what had just happened.

“So, Don admires Wendy, biblically, Wendy dies weird, and a scorned wife is angry,” Dean stated. 

“And by how empty her huge walk-in closet was, Maggie’s not planning on coming back anytime soon,” Sam added. “I did find a broken high heel in her trash.”

“Broken heel,” Dean mused. “Maybe she broke it while running away from something, because Maggie doesn’t put in mind of any Lance Armstrongs.”

“That’s biking,” Sam corrected.

“Why would Maggie be running in heels?” Cas asked.

“Exactly,” Dean pointed. “I’m tellin’ ya, I called this as a scorned wife thing! I just had the wrong wife!”

“So,” Cas clarified, “you think Maggie killed Wendy out of anger?”

“Did I mention scorned wife?” Dean grinned expectantly.

“And in retaliation, Don killed Gary because?”

“Maybe Gary was sleeping with Maggie too?” Sam offered. “These neighbors do an awful lot of...swinging. Or sleeping around.”

“Bingo,” Dean grinned.

“We need to find out more about this shopping center deal,” Sam said.

Dean pointed at his brother. “I’m gonna call the one neighbor that doesn’t seem to mind sharing the dirt with me.”

“Melanie?” Sam guessed.

“Bobby,” Dean stated with a grin.

“And someone needs to get Maggie’s side of the story,” Cas added. “I don’t know if I buy the scorned spouse bit. It seems rather...extreme.”

“Hey, why worry when you know the cops are gonna sweep it under the rug to keep up their precious town reputation,” Dean offered.

Cas had to concede a bit to that. “Someone should warn Cindy as well, before she becomes the next Wendy Goodson.”

Sam grimaced. “Cindy and Don. God. This town gets nuttier every day.” He went inside, leaving him and Dean on the porch. 

Dean had a look of energized excitement about getting to the bottom of what caused Gary’s death. He bit his lip, meeting Cas’ eye. “You did good in there. Little less Mike Lowrey and little more Columbo.”

Cas grinned. “Maybe I should stop being a nurse and change to being a detective.”

Dean stepped closer, his fingers trailing his lapel and his tie. “I seem to remember you owning a trench coat.”

“I do,” Cas chuckled, unable to stop watching Dean’s mouth.

“You look really hot in this suit,” Dean said quietly, meeting his eyes.

Cas grinned again, enjoying how Dean’s comfort grew every day. As he got to know him better, he adored every mood, even the brief darker ones he’d caught a glimpse of. Dean was as curious and playful as he was, and he loved it. “Does that mean I did better today?”

“You did,” Dean grinned with a cocky tilt.

“I think I deserve some compensation,” Cas said softly, hooking a finger in Dean’s belt loop, pulling him closer. 

“Oh yeah?” Dean grinned, kissing him with a warm chuckle. “I like compensating you.”

***********************************************

Sam was quite thankful to have two bathrooms in his house. He never dreamed he’d have to fight for hot water though. It had not crossed his mind that he and Gabe would be sharing their home with BOTH their brothers. 

He shut off the water to his shower and gasped again at how cold he was. He snatched his towel from the rack and dried off, shivering as his annoyance grew. He toweled off and wrapped it around his waist, grabbing a second towel to dry his hair. He wrapped that one around his head and went into his bedroom with irritation. This wasn’t the first, or second, time he’d been frozen out of his own shower. He flung his bedroom door open, wincing as the knob smacked the wall hard. He really needed to put a doorstop on that wall. He went to the other bathroom and pounded on the door, interrupting whoever was showering.

“Yeah?” Dean called from inside.

“Dean!” Sam huffed, opening the door. “Quit taking a shower when I’m already taking one!”

“Dude!” Dean hollered from behind the curtain.

“If you’re gonna shower, make sure I’m not using the other one!”

“Sorry! But hey, I hear cold water helps long hair to not get frizzy, so...I was just lookin’ out for ya!”

Sam glared at the blue and white curtain, hearing Dean chuckling behind it. “Yeah. Okay,” he said. He turned, a slight grin tipping his mouth and flushed the toilet.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean yelled.

Sam laughed as he heard Dean’s feet squeaking on the tub, crowding into a corner to avoid the scalding or freezing shower spray. 

Dean yanked the curtain open enough to pop his head out with a hella-scowl. 

“Jerk,” Sam grinned.

“Bitch,” Dean quipped. “And what the fuck are you wearing?”

Sam sighed, recalling he was standing there with his head wrapped in a towel. “I was FREEZING COLD.”

Dean hissed at the water.

“You gonna be more careful?” Sam asked.

“You gonna get a Sarong to go with that head wrap?” Dean countered.

Sam smirked, putting his hand on the handle to the toilet again.

“Alright! Alright! I’ll be more careful!” Dean disappeared behind the curtain again and Sam left the bathroom, running into Cas in the hallway, who gave his second towel an amused grin.

“Tell your boyfriend he’s gonna get evicted if he doesn’t quit freezing me out of the shower,” Sam snapped.

“He’s not my -” Cas frowned, not finishing the statement.

“You two have been sleeping together for days,” Sam smirked. “If you aren’t boyfriends yet, then you two need to learn how to use your words.” He left Cas standing there with a confused look on his face and went back to his room. It might be hot outside, but he was putting on sweatpants and a hoodie to stop his shivering.

He wasn’t even quite in his hoodie when the doorbell rang. “Cas!” He yelled. “Can you get the door!”

He ran his fingers through his hair and heard the doorbell ring again. “Son of a bitch.” He went downstairs, but no one was around. He opened the door, surprised to see a delivery man standing there.

“Hello!” The man said, smiling a mile wide. “Delivery for Sam and Gabe Winchester!”

“Oh, yeah, I’m Sam.” He tucked his wet hair behind his ears, signing the electronic rectangle. As he handed it back, he noticed that across the street an ambulance was sitting in front of Naoki and Olivia’s house. He hadn’t heard any sirens, but he’d been preoccupied with his shower.

“Do you want us to bring it around back?” The man asked.

“What is it?” Sam asked, tearing his eyes from the ambulance.

“Only the finest grill we sell at Chip’s Hardware!”

Sam came down the porch steps with him, looking at the double grill. “I didn’t order this.”

“Hmm.” The guy looked something up on his iPad, grinning with a nod. “Says here you did! Oh! It was purchased by a Dean Winchester.”

Sam sighed. Dean had mentioned he had ordered a gift for him and Gabe. A housewarming present. “Thank you. That’s my brother.”

“Wow. You got a swell brother,” the man said. “This is the newest grill, just out this year. One side is charcoal and the other is gas. And I already hooked up the gas tank for you! Free of charge at Chip’s!”

“Thank you,” Sam grinned, regretting ever using the word evicted in reference to Dean. Dean could live here forever as far as he was concerned. And not because of the gifts. Because he just really loved having him around. “I can get it,” he assured the man, lifting one end to pull it across the sidewalk and up their driveway. The delivery man gave him a peppy wave and got back in his truck, leaving.

Sam was only halfway up the driveway when he saw Naoki’s front door open. He stopped, watching as a paramedic backed out of the door with a stretcher. He was stunned to see the tiny form of what must be their daughter bundled up and strapped in. As they loaded Kat into the ambulance, Naoki hovered at the back door of it, calling assurances to her. The doors shut and Naoki backed onto the grass to let them go. She stood there doing nothing for so long that Sam was worried something was terribly wrong. He left the grill and jogged over to her. 

“Naoki, are you okay?”

She turned to him, worry crinkling her brow. “Kat...”

“Do you want me to drive you to the hospital?” Sam asked, seeing how scared she was.

Naoki nodded slowly then her phone rang. She lifted the phone to her ear with a shaky hello, then a tearful ‘okay’, before hanging up. “That was Olivia. She’s almost here. She’ll take me but thank you.”

“Sure,” Sam said gently. Seeing that she wasn’t moving, he figured she might need some help. “Do you want to get your purse? So you’re ready when she gets here?”

Naoki nodded, wiping tears from her eyes. She no sooner had gone inside than Olivia pulled up in a rush and a squeal of tires.

Sam waved to her, coming to her window as Olivia put it down. “She’ll be right out. She went to grab her purse.”

“Okay,” Olivia said, looking equally as terrified. “Kat’s been sick for a few days and Nay just called me and said she had some kind of seizure or something and then went unconscious!”

“I’m so sorry,” Sam whispered, looking up as Naoki came out of the house, running toward Olivia’s car. “Please, don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything at all,” he said quickly, backing up from the car as Olivia thanked him and she took off again.

Sam crossed the street slowly, going back to putting his new grill away.

When he went into the kitchen, Dean was standing at the coffee pot, talking to Cas. Sam went straight to Dean, hugging him.

“What the hell?” Dean chuckled, hugging him back. “You didn’t burn me that bad!”

Sam stepped back, tucking his hair behind his ears again. He was going to have to wear a beanie all day today since his hair had not gotten the regime it normally did. “The grill came.”

Dean’s face lit up. “Hey! See, I’m not so bad to have around, am I?”

Sam sighed. “I always want you around, Dean. Sorry I snapped at you so bad. You too, Cas.”

Dean frowned, glancing at Cas, who shrugged the apology off as though it was not needed.

“Thank you, for the grill,” Sam said. “It looks really awesome.”

Dean gave him a suspicious look. “You that pissed about a cold shower?”

“No. Not at all,” Sam chuckled. “I just, I was acting like a dick and then the present came and then the neighbor’s little girl...” He shook his head, struggling to rein in his feelings.

“What little girl?” Cas asked.

“Naoki and Olivia’s little girl. Kat. She just got taken outta here in an ambulance. It must be pretty serious. Olivia said she’s been sick and today she had a seizure and now she’s unconscious.”

“Oh no,” Cas gasped.

“That’s awful,” Dean murmured. 

“Yeah.” Sam pushed his hair back. “I guess it shook me up a little.”

“Well...in other crappy news,” Dean went on, “I called Bobby. He didn’t have anything to say about Wendy. Actually, he wasn’t as sharing as I thought he might be. Kinda clammed up.”

“Hm,” Cas frowned deeper.

The front door opened to the sound of Gabe already talking to someone as he came in from work.

“Hey!” Gabe grinned to the room, kissing Sam.

“Hey there, fellas!” Garth waved.

“Hi, Garth,” Sam grinned, patting his shoulder.

“Dean! Castiel!” Garth grinned, hugging Cas before he could even decline it, making his eyes go wide. “Good to see you!” He turned, hugging Dean, who patted his back with a pained grin.

“Hey, Garth, how’s it hangin’?” Dean said, stepping back and closer to Cas.

“Good! I missed the barbecue last weekend and wanted to stop in and say hello!”

“Hello,” Cas said awkwardly, making Garth chuckle.

“Are you loving Charming Acres, or what?” He grinned at Sam and Gabe.

Both hesitated, Sam stepping up first. “It’s, uh...interesting.”

“Small town got ya feelin’ snuggled in yet?” Garth beamed.

“Like a noose,” Dean muttered just out of Garth’s earshot, making Sam wince and Gabe smirk.

“Did you get a milkshake from Harrington’s yet?”

“Yep,” they muttered.

“Cas and Dean are moving here too,” Sam grinned, unable to not tease his brother a little.

“See! Small towns rule, dawg!”

Dean gave him an I’ll-get-you-later grin before he plastered a smile on for Garth. “I’m thinking about it. Not too sure about this place yet.”

“Garth,” Sam jumped in, “did you know anything about Wendy Goodson? She used to own this house.”

His face fell slightly. “Sure. Real go-getter. She was a realtor. I remember seeing her picture on benches downtown. She died, right? Some crazy accident at a spa.”

“A spa?” Sam asked. “So, it didn’t happen here? At the house?”

“No, no. There used to be a spa downtown. Real swank place owned by Maggie Stark. They closed it down after the accident. Some kind of electrical surge when she was in a hair dryer.”

Sam glanced at Dean and Cas. It couldn’t be coincidence that the woman Don was having an affair with was killed in Maggie’s shop. “Was an investigation done?”

Garth gave all of them a curious look. “Not that I know of. The beauticians saw it happen. What’s goin’ on, fellas?”

“That’s what I’m wondering,” Gabe added. “I assume you guys were Scooby ganging today?”

“Yeah,” Sam admitted.

“Don and Maggie Stark are basically throwing lightning bolts all over town,” Dean said.

Garth looked unconvinced. “I’ve heard they really go at it sometimes, but...you think Maggie had something to do with killing Wendy?”

“Yep,” Dean and Sam said.

“I don’t know, fellas. Charming Acres is the safest town -”

“In the USA,” Dean and Gabe finished, cutting him off.

“Yeah, we’re not buyin’ it,” Sam asserted.

Garth shook his head. “I think you spent too long in the city. Maggie and Don might fuss and fight, but they’d never kill anyone.”

Sam held onto his thought that Don may have killed Gary. They obviously weren’t getting anywhere with Garth.

“The milkshakes are great!” Gabe piped in, making the others ease up a bit, and Garth smile.

“Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about!” Garth grinned with a nod. “Hey, I’ll catch you fellas later. And don’t forget to schedule yourselves appointments to come see me! I’m the only dentist in town right now, so I get booked up pretty quick!”

“What happened to the other dentist?” Cas asked suspiciously.

“Did he die?” Dean pounced.

“What?” Garth asked in shock. “No! Dudes, he retired!”

“I’ll be sure to schedule an appointment,” Sam assured, walking him to the door. “Thanks for stopping by. Tell Bess we said hello.”

“Will do! And Sam, enjoy small town living, bro! This is probably the safest place on the whole planet!”

Sam grinned, waving as he got in his car and pulled away. Naoki and Olivia’s house was still dark, so he figured they must still be at the hospital. He went back inside to fill Gabe in on everything they found out today.

*****************************************

Dean got in bed, still thinking about Don and Maggie Stark. Those thoughts quickly faded when Cas came in and closed the door. This had become the weirdest routine he had ever had. They usually went to bed at the same time, like a couple. And they chatted easily enough, like a couple. But then when the lights went off, they kissed goodnight and went to sleep, like friends. They had been doing this for several nights now, and it was starting to drive Dean crazy! Did Cas not want him? He knew better than that as soon as the thought took shape. So what was taking him so long to get more intimate? 

Dean didn’t consider himself the greatest resource on relationships, but he knew a stall-out when one was happening.

Cas lay his head on the pillow next to him. 

“Are you gonna read?” Dean asked.

“No,” Cas said breezily, turning off his lamp. He turned toward Dean like he did every night and smiled.

Dean stared at the ceiling but he could feel Cas’ eyes on him. Was he waiting for something? Should he come to bed naked? That might prompt a change in this odd routine. Why was it that they kissed so passionately and then at night...nothing! He sighed heavily, feeling his irritation grow. He was going to have to say something.

Soon.

Cas slid his hand under the cover and took Dean’s. He did that sometimes. The first time it happened, Dean thought for sure they were gonna have sex. But nope. Nothing. Just hand holding.

But it was nice.

It felt nice.

He squeezed Cas’ hand and let himself relax. He turned to Cas and smiled. “Night, Cas,” he said, like he did every night.

“Goodnight, Dean,” Cas grinned back, moving to kiss him. This time, Dean parted his lips almost immediately and groaned with pleasure when Cas’ tongue met his in a soft, warm stroke. Every night they did this. And every time it felt so good. Made-him-gasp good.

And just like clockwork, just as Dean didn’t think he could keep his hips to himself any longer, Cas pulled away, giving him one last chaste kiss before lying back with a happy grin.

And there lay Dean, heart thumping, chest tight and heaving, dick as hard as granite. He blinked at the ceiling and wondered what the hell was happening. Why did he stop? Why didn’t Cas want more? If they stayed together, would Cas not want to have sex? Why was there a thin crack along the white ceiling of Sam’s guest room? He wished he hadn’t let go of Cas’ hand earlier. At least that would have been a point of contact. He rolled over, looking out the dark window. He wanted Cas so bad he couldn’t shut his head up. He waited until he had not heard Cas make a sound for some time, then snuck out of the room.

His first thought was to go to the bathroom and get rid of the hard on he had. But by the time he got to the bathroom door, he was flagging a bit and just wanted to be out of earshot. He crept down the back steps and through the kitchen, going straight out the back door and into the yard. He took a deep breath of night air and stared up at the stars. They were much harder to see here than when he was miles from shore in the Bering Sea.

Sam’s back door opened onto a low deck. So far, the only things on it were a long wooden bench that came with the house and the grill he had gotten them. The tags were still on it, but he knew Sam would love grilling.

He sat on the end of the bench, staring back up at the stars. He sat there so long that he found himself staring at the boards under his bare feet and wondered just when he had moved.

He was used to living in cramped conditions. Tight spaces where everyone could read the look on your face whether you were aware of it or not. So, why was he feeling so damn crowded?

He’d worked and slept alongside deck mates that were hot and not interested in men, hot and very interested in him, and never had he felt as confused as he did right now. What was Cas doing? 

It was only then that it dawned on Dean that Cas might be waiting for HIM to make the next move. He stood up so abruptly that the bench teetered, and he had to steady it before it clattered to the deck, waking half the neighborhood. Was Cas waiting for him to...what? Touch him? Ask him? Just start pulling his boxers off? If that were the case, no wonder they hadn’t gotten any further. For some of the crazy shit he had done in his time (including having sex in a freezer surrounded by dead fish) he had never started it. His game was flirt, then let them take over. Wait and see what he got. Bait the hook and ride what he reeled in. That was his comfort zone.

So far, it was an unsatisfying, lonely zone.

He went back inside and made his way upstairs to the guest room slow and quiet. If Cas was waiting on him, he was going to have to step up his game. Words and jokes were how he usually got laid. Some flirty grins or even just not turning down an advance. 

He was going to have to take some action.

If he could just make himself do it.

He went as silently as possible into the bedroom, wincing as the door clicked shut. Cas didn’t move. He must be sound asleep.

He got under the covers, chilly now from being outside, he wished he could feel Cas. He would be so warm. Before he could argue with himself any further on whether to reach over and touch him or not, Cas moved, his warm hand finding his.

“You’re cold!” Cas grumbled.

“Yeah,” Dean said softly. Oh yeah, way to get out there Winchester. 

Two long minutes ticked by and Dean was fairly sure Cas had fallen back asleep, giving him a little more bravery.

I’m cold. Come warm me up. Please. The thoughts were so loud he thought surely Cas had to hear them. No? Nope. He was going to have to say something. Or DO something. Move! Just snuggle up to him!

He let go of Cas’ hand and turned onto his side, away from him. 

He inched closer.

And closer.

He could feel a line of warmth from Cas’ body and shivered at the temperature difference. And the touch. He inched closer.

Just ask him! Just...do it! 

“Dean,” Cas said softly.

Oh shit! He was caught! Cas was gonna -

“Dean,” Cas said just a touch louder, turning toward him, “come here, you’re freezing.”

“Yeah, I’m cold,” he tried chuckling, but it came out more as a hitch in his breath as Cas suddenly enveloped him from behind and seemed to surround him with warmth. His arm wrapped around him, rubbing heat into his side, arm, and chest until Dean caught his hand and kissed it. Oh God, this was so good. So, so good. They were touching. They were cuddling.

“Are you okay?” Cas asked, making Dean tip his ear toward his mouth like a moth to a flame.

“This is good,” he grinned.

Cas seemed to hum happily behind him, inching his body tight against Dean’s, lining them up so their feet were entwined.

He regretted the invention of t-shirts, wishing their bare skin was touching, but he was incredibly happy to have this. He hugged Cas’ arms to him, kissing his forearm. His grin widened with absolute glee when Cas left a chain of soft, little kisses on the back of his neck and just under his ear.

This was good.

His thudding heart slowly resumed to normal as Cas held him tight and...fell asleep.

Well...there was always tomorrow.

Tomorrow night would be even better.

He was going to make damn sure of it.


	8. Just My Imagination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nice long chapter! Gabe loses a friend. Sam and Dean find themselves running around the neighborhood at night. And Castiel is leaving in a biiiiiig rush.

Chapter 8: Just My Imagination

Gabe attached his keycard to his belt and deemed himself ready for work. It was Friday and he was looking forward to his weekend. The Scooby-gang had been quite busy the last two days. Between Deb Frieling’s bombshell that she knew and was good with her husband sleeping with the neighbor, and Don Stark admitting to having an affair...he wanted in on the Hardy Boy action! Blue uniform squared away, he jogged down the stairs and grabbed three granola bars and a water for breakfast. He went out to the front porch, knowing Sam would wind his way home on his jog any minute.

He watched as his neighbor, Olivia, pulled into her driveway, looking frazzled. Sam, jogging up the sidewalk was watching her as well. He stopped at the foot of their porch steps, breathing semi-heavy. Gabe went down to meet him as Olivia went inside her house.

“I guess Kat’s still in the hospital,” he said quietly.

“Yeah, looks like it,” Sam agreed, trying not to stare at the tan house. “I wonder what’s wrong with her?”

Gabe bit into his granola bar. “I don’t know. She looked healthy as a horse, like all the other kids around here, running and playing.”

“I’ll let you know if I hear anything,” Sam said, wiping his face before kissing him goodbye.

“What are you kids getting into today?” Gabe asked.

Sam shrugged. “I’m gonna mow. Other than that, nothing.”

“No sleuthing without me!”

Sam chuckled that deep, rich laugh he so loved. “Promise. We’ll wait for you.”

Gabe kissed him again. “I gotta go. I promised Marion and Imelda that I’d be there for breakfast.”

Sam laughed again. “You love those old ladies as much as I think they love you!”

Gabe chuckled. He did have a real soft spot for elderly people. Even the grumpy ones. “Who knew I’d dig chicks someday!”

Sam laughed harder, kissing him again. “You better go, Romeo. Don’t make me chase those little old ladies away!”

Gabe headed to work, walking along Lily Dale Lane with a whistle and pep in his step. He didn’t want to admit it, but Charming Acres was growing on him. He liked walking to work, waving to the neighbors, and seeing his favorite group of ladies.

He clocked in ten minutes early and unlocked his office. The maintenance office handled repairs and housekeeping. He had four staff members, three housekeepers and one other maintenance man, that he was in charge of. Laundry, like the kitchen, was its own department, thankfully, because he really didn’t like being in charge of other people. Luckily, the housekeeping staff did their own thing, he just kept track of the cleaning schedules and ordering supplies. 

He liked Sunset Fields. It was sunny and charming in the big day rooms. The halls were clean, and the dining rooms were nice. His own office was a handed-down helter-skelter of racks with everything and anything crammed into boxes and crowded in teetering piles, but he was learning where everything was. At least it didn’t smell like the housekeepers office, which he swore could make you high off chemical fumes. 

There were four hallways, two for the ‘high-rollers’, he called them, and two for the average-Joes. The nice halls had single rooms and few maintenance issues, so he ended up spending more of his time in the other two halls, fixing everything from phones to lights to beds. He was pleased to note that all the rooms were equally cleaned, just had crappier furnishings and those guys were two to a room.

After a brief huddle with the head housekeeper, he made his rounds to the two nursing stations and then joined Sheila, Marion, and Goldy for breakfast, eating his last granola bar between cutting up Goldy’s waffle and slipping her and Marion more Pixy Stix.

“No Imelda again today?” Gabe asked his breakfast dates, noting her absence for the second morning in a row.

“No, and that troll Dr. Mahoney has been in and out of her room with the nurses. I tried to go visit her, but they said she’s resting.” Marion shook her head. For some reason, she didn’t like the resident doctor on staff. He seemed alright to Gabe, but he’d rarely interacted with the guy. He was a stuffy doctor and that was that.

“I’ll see if I can’t slip in and cheer her up,” Gabe winked, making Marion grin. “Miss Goldilocks, you better eat that waffle before I run out of granola bar,” he added, getting a faint grin from her. She did not look as perky today as she usually did. In fact, she looked distracted.

“Richie, dear,” Sheila said, holding her coffee cup out to him, “would you be a doll and get me some creamer?”

“What kind of date would I be if I left you with black coffee?” Gabe grinned, taking the mug to add creamer to it. Sheila had short, straight gray hair cut in a bob, usually dressed in a beret. She was a sweet, kind little lady who usually called him Richie no matter how many times he or the others corrected her. She would just smile up at him dreamily and apologize, insisting he looked like her second ex-husband, Richie.

“Thank you, dear,” she smiled, sipping it.

“Everyone good here?” One of the nurses’ aides asked, checking in on the table.

“Everything is just right,” Marion assured him.

“How’d you ladies get such special treatment, getting Mr. Winchester for breakfast again?” He was a young guy, 23 at the oldest, with a barely-there goatee and a thin mustache.

“Gabe likes eating with us,” Goldy said softly, smiling at him.

The aide chuckled and left their table to go sit with Fred, who was struggling with his waffle as well.

“Melanie will be asking me how you did today,” Gabe coaxed Goldy, pointing at her waffle. He got an even warmer grin this time.

“You’re such a good boy,” Goldy said softly.

“I try,” he chuckled. 

She reached over, squeezing his forearm with a gentle pat. “And -” she jumped slightly, her grip strengthening.

“Are you okay,” he asked, covering her hand with his.

“Oh dear,” she gasped, mouth forming a little O.

“Goldy?” He asked, starting to get up.

“She does this sometimes,” Marion assured him, watching her table mate. “She has a touch of the shining, if you know what I mean.”

Psychic. She must be like her granddaughter, Melanie. Cas had told him she read his aura or some shit like that.

“The bracelet!” Goldy exclaimed. “They’re stealing!”

One of the nurse’s aides came over, glancing at Goldy. “Mrs. Golden, let’s get you settled in your room.” He unlocked her brakes and pulled her away from the table and Gabe’s hand. 

“He’s stealing!” She protested.

“No one is stealing, Mrs. Golden,” the aide assured her.

Gabe watched the pair leave the dining hall, wondering what had just happened. It bothered him that she thought he would ever steal from her. He looked back at Marion with a nervous grin. “Guess she really thought I’d take her waffle.”

Marion chuckled. “Oh, sugar, she wouldn’t think that about you.”

He gave her a pat on the arm. Both Sheila and Goldy could get confused from time to time, but it still bothered him that Goldy had reacted that way. He would never steal from these people. Anyone, for that matter. “See you later, Marion, duty calls. Sheila, no flirting with Mr. Jones over there.” Sheila laughed, waving him off. 

He had a date with an ice machine that was giving the staff fits at the nursing station.

******

Two hours, a stain on his shirt, a sore ass, and a soaked pant leg later, the ice machine was clean and spitting ice cubes like a Pez dispenser. He changed the two fluorescent bulbs he noticed were out, and he stopped for five call-lights blinking in the hall. Call-lights were outside of every room on the ceiling above the doorways. When one was blinking, you stopped to check on them no matter if you were a nurse, a receptionist, or Wayne Whittaker himself. They were always a little adventure. Today’s ray of sunshine was Mr. Andrews in 2B. When Gabe knocked on the door and walked in, good old, Mr. Andrews was naked from the waist down, except the giant pants puddled at his feet.

“Hey there, whoa!” Gabe laughed, rushing to Mr. Andrews side so he didn’t trip and fall. “Whatcha doin’ there, Joe?”

“My pants won’t stay on!” Joe exclaimed, looking at them in bewilderment.

“Well, I’m pretty sure these are your bunkmate’s, my friend.” He helped Joe step out of the tangle of material. 

“I told him to stay out of my dresser!” His roommate, Stanley, hollered from where he laid in his bed.

“I’ll get him sorted out, Stanley,” Gabe said, encouraging Joe to sit on the chair in the corner. He picked up the pants, holding them out. “Joe, you’d have to eat fifty breakfasts this morning to fit in these bad boys!”

Joe was about a buck soaking wet, while Stanley was a good 300+ pounds. 

Joe squinted at the pants. “Well...I don’t like those anyway.”

“Well, there ya go,” Gabe snickered, putting them away in Stanley’s dresser. 

A nurse came in since the call-light was still on. “What’s going on?” She asked pleasantly.

“Oh, just Joe shopping in Stanley’s dresser,” Gabe said, pulling Joe’s dresser drawer open.

“I got it,” she laughed, turning the call light off. “Thank you, Gabe.”

“No probs!”

He stepped out into the hall after washing his hands and remembered to go check on Imelda.

When he rounded the corner to the right hall, he stopped in his tracks. The hall was cleared of the usual walking and wheeling residents and bustling staff. Paramedics were backing a stretcher out of Imelda’s room and his heart sunk. She must really be sick.

Then he saw the other end of the stretcher. Her head was covered, and the pair of paramedics made their way quickly down the hall and out of sight.

The nurse’s aide, the man that had whisked Goldy out of the dining hall, stopped next to him. Gabe turned to him with a look of shock.

“She passed away this morning,” he said quietly.

Gabe’s heart stuttered. He should have been more prepared for this. He worked in a nursing home. People came here to... “But...she was fine!”

The aide nodded. “Happens fast sometimes. She had a heart attack, they said.”

“What?” He tried to shake himself to act more professionally, but damn! He liked Imelda! She was one of the crew! One of his ‘Silver Swans’ he had dubbed them. 

The aide patted his shoulder. “She was a sweet lady.” Then headed into the now empty room, leaving Gabe standing there.

He headed back to his office, sitting at his desk.

Well...shit.

***************************************************

Sam was putting freshly husked corn into a pot of boiling water when Gabe walked in from work. Cas was snapping green beans he had picked up at a food stand, and Dean was playing a game on his phone with an annoyingly catchy song.

“Hey!” Sam grinned, always glad when Gabe got home.

“Hey.”

They all looked up and saw him going through the motions of removing his keycard and wallet. His face looked sadder than Sam had ever seen it. 

“Gabe?” Sam asked, coming to his side immediately.

Gabe sighed, his frown deepening enough that Sam was truly worried he was about to cry.

“What happened?” Sam asked, laying a hand on his shoulder, knowing something was wrong.

“One of the residents died today,” he said quietly.

“Oh,” Sam frowned, hurting for his husband. “I’m so sorry.” He hugged him, taking his weight.

“It was Imelda,” he said, heartbreak in his tone.

“Melanie’s grandma?” Cas asked, coming around the table to rub his back.

“No,” Gabe shook his head, pulling out of the hug, swiping a tear away. “Goldy is Melanie’s grandma.”

“Was she one of the silver swans?” Sam asked, grinning through his hurt for him, knowing he had a special group of residents he called the silver swans. He told stories about them all the time and had taken to buying them little things.

Gabe nodded, sitting heavily into a kitchen chair. “Sweet, sweet lady. Sharp as a tack. But she wasn’t feeling too well and...I shoulda seen this coming.”

Cas squeezed his shoulder. “It hurts to lose a friend. And I’m sure the others will miss her too.”

Gabe nodded. “I’m gonna change clothes and...”

“Dinner will be ready in half an hour or so,” Sam said softly.

“I’m good,” Gabe assured them. “I just forgot how frail they can be. It just caught me off guard.”

As he gave them a confident nod and went up the steps, Sam, Dean, and Cas exchanged sad and worried glances. They finished preparing dinner, giving Gabe some space. When he came downstairs to eat, he was more like his normal self, if not a mite subdued.

After dinner, they trickled out to the front porch, as they did most evenings, watching the neighbors. It was still light, and they were all enjoying a bowl of ice cream.

“Ya know, I never even signed us up to get cable,” Sam mused.

“There is no lack for entertainment,” Cas said, watching two neighbor kids come up the sidewalk.

Fletcher and Zoe were chatting, Fletcher carrying a towel and already wearing floaties on his upper arms, making Sam grin.

“Hi!” Zoe said, seeing them on the porch.

“Hi,” Sam, Gabe, and Cas said back.

They stopped at the bottom step of the porch. “We’re going swimming!” Fletcher announced, grinning.

Sam got up, unable to stop the counselor in him from checking the kid out a bit more closely. He came and sat between Cas and Dean on the top step. “Swimming? That sounds fun!”

“I have a pool,” Zoe notified them, reminding Sam of how her mother, Sue, would grin and tip her chin. 

“Nice!” Sam said. He couldn’t see any bruises on Fletcher or any signs of anything untoward. Considering all he had on was swim trunks and flip flops, it was a reassuring sign.

“My friend Nicky has a crush on his friend Weems,” Zoe explained, like two kids needed an explanation for swimming on a hot evening.

“A crush,” Cas chuckled. “I think you’re kinda young for dating,” he teased.

“Nicky’s all grown up,” Zoe assured him. “She’s a mermaid and she lives in my pool.”

“Now THAT I have got to see,” Gabe grinned.

“She’s very pretty,” Fletcher said, his shyer voice making all of them melt a little. The boy turned just to the side, looking up. He nodded and turned back to them. “Weems is gonna play her his new song. He plays air guitar.”

Understanding dawned on Sam as Dean and Cas looked at him, a little more confused. Nicky the mermaid and Weems must be imaginary friends. “Are they friends with the other little girl,” he glanced at Cas who gave him a I-don’t-know face, “um, Maddie, that’s her name. Are they friends of Maddie’s friend?”

“Yeah!” Both kids said excitedly. 

“Nicky and Sparkle are like BEST friends,” Zoe explained.

Dean looked totally lost, but Cas and Gabe were starting to follow the odd conversation now.

“I wish I could see Sparkle,” Gabe said, eating his ice cream again and going back to a gentle rocking sway on the porch swing.

“Sparkle!” Dean nodded, catching on. “The unicorn man. The manicorn.”

“That’s nice that your friends are friends,” Sam said, ignoring Dean.

“Weems wants to go,” Fletcher said quietly to Zoe, who nodded and took his hand.

“We gotta go,” she said apologetically. 

“Bye,” they all said, waving. They watched as the pair walked down Lily Dale toward Sue’s house.

“Cute kids,” Dean grinned, eating the last of his ice cream in such a big bite that Sam watched with amusement as Dean soon began wincing with brain-freeze. He glanced at Cas who was smiling at his antics, Sam shaking his head in mock annoyance.

“Is it normal for a group of children to all have imaginary friends?” Cas asked.

“I don’t know,” Sam shrugged. “Guess I could ask Sully.” He stared at the dark house across the street, wondering how the daughter, Kat, was doing.

From the vantage spot on the top step, Sam could see Maggie Stark come out of Sue’s house, saying hi to the kids as they turned to walk along the house and into the backyard. Before Maggie got into her car, Sue came out and the pair had a quick conversation. The way they stood so close and looked from Maggie’s house and then toward theirs, made the entire exchange look quite conspiratorial. 

“Wait...is Maggie staying at Sue’s house?” Dean asked, seeing the same thing he was.

“Looks that way,” Cas answered.

Both women glared as all four of them took note of them. Dean, smart-ass extraordinaire, waved with a cocky little grin.

“Hello Crazytown, but okay,” Dean smirked.

Sam and Cas looked away, unnerved slightly by being caught being nosy.

“Hello, ladies!” Gabe called.

“Gabe!” Sam hissed.

Both women glared harder and Maggie got in her car to leave as Sue marched back inside the house.

“Guess Maggie didn’t go too far,” Dean said quietly.

As Maggie began driving away, Don Stark shot out of his driveway in his little sports car and passed her, making her slam on the brakes as he zipped around her with a smarmy grin and sunglasses.

“Owwwww!” Maggie yelled. She yelled a lot more as she sped away, but they couldn’t catch any of it.

“Is it weird that it’s kinda refreshing to see them acting like assholes in this picture-perfect town?” Gabe asked.

“Nope,” Dean quipped.

Sam just shook his head, grinning at him.

“It disturbs me that you find comfort in other people’s dysfunction,” Cas said.

“Yeah, well your boyfriend agrees with me,” Gabe shot back.

Dean and Cas exchanged a look across Sam that had him pulling back in secondhand discomfort. Must be a bit too soon for the pair to hear that term, but come on, they were sleeping together every night!

Cas looked caught between feeling like he needed to correct Gabe and not really wanting to.

Dean just looked trapped and ready to jet like a rabbit.

“Hey there, fellas!” Came a call from across the street. Ed Carrigan waving to them.

“Oh great. Here comes St. Nicotine,” Dean said under his breath, making Sam and Cas snicker.

“Hi, Ed,” Sam called back.

Ed came to the foot of the porch wearing a red sweater with Santa faces for pockets and a pipe in his hand. He glanced toward the end of the road where Maggie had just pulled out. “Isn’t love grand? Those two sure know how to put a chill in the air!”

They snorted little laughs and nodded in agreement.

“Peanut brittle, anyone?” He asked, holding out a tin.

“No, no,” they all declined.

“Hey, Ed,” Sam asked, figuring he might as well make the most of a visit from the odd neighbor, “have you heard anything about Naoki’s daughter, Kat?”

Ed’s cheerful grin dampened as he tucked the pipe in the corner of his mouth. “I don’t know anything about that. Madge did say that Nellie told her Naoki said the little tike is still unconscious at the hospital. I bet it’s their well water. See, their house and the two back Singer Lane still run on well water. I told them all last fall they should have hooked up to city water.” He chewed the tip of his pipe with the slightest bit of agitation showing as he looked across the street. The dark look on his face switched back to pleasant as he turned toward them. “Missed you boys at the bake sale last weekend.”

Sam couldn’t help feeling like the friendly note was laced with a hint of a scolding.

“We were busy unpacking the rest of our shit,” Gabe answered for them.

“Right,” Ed nodded, potentially not buying the excuse. “It’s too bad. You missed our mayor’s campaign speech. The voting will be in November. Hope you can make it to the corn soup rally tomorrow at the fair ground. I’m sure he’ll speak again.”

“Who else is running?” Cas asked. Sam had just been wondering the same thing. Maybe they weren’t the only ones on to Chip Harrington practically owning the police department and covering up crimes.

Ed laughed, his stomach bouncing as he put a hand to it. “No one that I know of! Chip’s been our mayor for years! And he does a fine job! A fine job! Charming Acres is the greatest town in the whole country!”

“Right,” Gabe said quite like Ed had a moment ago.

“Well, I insist you boys join us on Saturday! You can ride with me and the missis!” 

“Oh -” Sam started to decline.

“I insist!” Ed grinned.

“I’m busy,” Dean blurted, quickly realizing how rude he sounded, amended with, “Cas and I are...going camping.”

Cas’ head snapped around, giving Dean a look like he was crazy. Dean lifted one brow in encouragement and Cas turned back to Ed. “Yes. We’re going camping. Far away. For a long time.”

Dean laughed a half-strangled chortle. “He’s new at camping. It’s...a whole...thing. But we’re busy.”

Ed’s bright eyes locked onto Sam’s expectantly. 

“Yyyyeah,” he said slowly, “um -”

“Great! We’ll pick you up at 4:00 sharp!” Ed gave them all a chipper wave of the hand and walked back across the street, whistling Silver Bells.

Gabe leaned forward from his spot on the swing and angrily whispered, “What did you just do?!”

Sam shrugged, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. “I froze!”

“Maybe I wanted to go camping too!” Gabe whispered.

Sam lifted both hands in befuddlement. He turned to Dean, who had a smug look on his face. “Jerk,” he bit out, frustrated that he hadn’t thought of it.

“Bitch,” Dean smirked.

“I like camping,” Cas grinned happily.

Dean and Sam exchanged a look.

“Where will we camp?” Cas asked.

“Not here,” Gabe stated. “You’re going ‘far away’, remember?”

Sam smiled, finding Dean’s new predicament well deserved. “Have fun. It’s supposed to be blazing hot this weekend.”

Dean nodded, glancing at Cas, who was staring down into his last few bites of ice cream with a grin a mile wide.

***********

Later that evening, most of them re-congregating on the front porch, Sam looked up when he heard approaching footsteps. He was a little surprised to see Bobby out taking a walk.

“Hey, Bobby,” Sam called.

Bobby paused in his steps, looking up to the porch. “Hey there.”

Dean came out the front door with the package for the doorstop that needed to be put in. “Hey, Bobby!”

“Evening,” Bobby grinned, wiping his head as he lifted his trucker cap and then reseated it. “How you boys been?”

Dean came down the steps, laying the doorstop on the porch. “Alright. You?”

“Alright,” Bobby said, not really seeming alright. His eyes traveled over the front of Sam’s house before he schooled his face into something more neutral.

Sam came down the steps to join them and heard chattering voices coming up Lily Dale Lane. He turned, all three of them seeing the group of neighborhood kids walking up the sidewalk.

“Well, lookie here comin’,” Bobby grinned. “The whole Lily Dale squad.”

“Hi!” Zoe waved, smiling wide and approaching them easily. “We were swimming!”

“Good day fer that,” Bobby said.

“Fletcher swam without his floaties!” Zoe announced, the two girls turned to him, Maddie patting his shoulder. While the girls looked to be eight or nine years old, Fletcher was younger. Five, if he had to guess.

“That’s awesome!” Sam grinned, holding a hand up and grinning wider when Fletcher’s face lit up even more and he high-five him back. “How old are you?”

“I’m six,” he answered. He glanced over his shoulder and up to the right, grinning. “Weems says I’m gonna swim like a fish soon!”

Sam nodded, wondering what had led the little boy to need an imaginary friend.

“Zoe’s spending the night at my house,” Maddie said. “We’re gonna play school. Sparkle REALLY likes to read. He’s very smart.”

Bobby already seemed familiar with the kids and their imaginary friends. “Where’s your other buddy? Kat?”

Their little faces fell, Fletcher looking down at the ground.

“Mommy said Kat is still sick. She can’t come play because she’s at the hospital.”

“Really?” Bobby asked, glancing at him and Dean, who nodded in confirmation.

“We miss her,” Zoe said quietly. “Hope she gets better soon.”

“Does Kat have a friend like you guys?” Dean asked, picking up on the crestfallen moods. “A...ya know...friend we can’t see?”

Maddie shook her head no. “My counselor says Sparkle helps me. I wish Kat had a friend. I asked Sparkle -”

“And I asked Nicky,” Zoe added hastily.

“If they could find Kat a friend, but I guess it doesn’t work that way.”

“Kat says she has ghosts in her house. And a monster in the closet. She could really use a friend like Sparkle.”

“Ghosts, huh,” Bobby nodded, a frown bristling his mustache and beard. “Sorry to hear that.”

“We should go,” Zoe explained. “I’m supposed to walk Fletcher home and I gotta pack all my toys to take to Maddie’s.”

The men all nodded, stepping back as the kids walked on toward the Smith house. Fletcher turned around, running back to Sam. “Weems says you’re nice. I think he’s right.”

Sam knelt down, wishing he could help him. “Well, thank you, and thanks, Weems. Did Nicky like his air guitar?”

Fletcher nodded his head yes vigorously, looking quite excited about it.

“Sounds like Weems is pretty awesome to have around,” Sam added. 

Quite unexpectedly, Fletcher hugged him then quickly ran off with his friends. “Bye, Sam!”

“Bye!” Sam waved, chuckling.

“I take it you know those kids,” Dean said to Bobby.

“Yep. Been seein’ them around since their parents were pushin’ ‘em in baby buggies. Well, ‘cept Fletcher. But I see he’s fittin’ in.”

“Why do they all have imaginary friends?” Sam asked. “It’s really not all that common. And three out of the four kids that live here have them.”

“That’s because the one with no imaginary friend has ghosts and monsters,” Dean added, as if that made perfect sense.

Bobby sighed, looking toward the Smith house. “Well, Maddie’s parents were gonna get divorced last year but decided to counsel their way through it, I guess. Maddie took it pretty hard. But if ya ask me, she runs that house most of the time. Zoe’s mom, Sue, runs that poor girl like a scheduled jack rabbit. She swims competitively, does ballet, and she’s always signing her up for town festivals and crap. That kid works harder than most adults I know.”

“Huh,” Sam mused. “I didn’t know you could compete at that age.”

“Drives her all over the country to compete. And stresses about every damn thing. Fletcher...that kid’s parents died. Cindy’s sister was his mom. Cindy and Justin never wanted kids. They kinda dressed him up and toted him around at first, but I rarely see ‘im with them anymore.” He shrugged.

“And Kat has ghosts,” Dean added, staring at the nearby houses suspiciously. “No offense, Bobby, but this town gets weirder every day.”

“You ain’t kiddin’,” Bobby swore. “What’s wrong with Kat?”

“Well, she got suddenly ill,” Sam explained. “It sounds pretty serious, actually. Something about a seizure and she’s been unconscious since.”

“What!” Bobby exclaimed.

“Yeah. Ed says it’s the water.”

Bobby’s jaw locked up like a pit bull as he glared at the Carrigan house. “That what he said, huh?”

“Yeah,” Sam went on, watching Bobby curiously. “He said it was probably bad well water. That they, you, and Rufus all have well water, unlike the rest of this street.”

“Yeah, we got well water. Pissed them right off when we didn’t join into the city system too. I make it a point to not pay Don Stark or Chip Harrington a cent more than I have to. There ain’t a damn thing wrong with our water.”

Sam exchanged a quick curious look with Dean. “So, why would Ed say that?”

“Because Don Stark is part owner of the construction company that woulda run the plumbing lines. And Chip owns the city water company.”

Dean cleared his throat. “Seems like you don’t get along with either of them. You know anything about Maggie Stark’s spa going belly-up?”

Bobby frowned in thought. “Yeah. She shut the place down immediately after Wendy died there. Guess killing your clients ain’t good fer business.”

“Did you know Wendy?” Dean asked.

Bobby’s eyes jumped back to Sam’s house before settling on the brothers again. “Yeah. She was...a realtor, I think.”

“And did you know about Don and Wendy?” Sam asked.

“What about them?” Bobby asked.

“They were banging,” Dean stated indelicately.

Bobby nodded slowly. “I gave up trying to keep up with who was sleeping with who years ago. In this town, cleanliness is next to Godliness, and adultery is as rampant as cupcake fundraisers.”

Dean stepped a little closer to Bobby, Sam doing the same. “So, you think Chip is dirty too?”

Bobby studied them both, his eyes narrowing beneath the bill of his cap. “Anybody that owns as much as that man, is dirty somehow.”

Sam and Dean exchanged an excited glance, Dean adding, “We think he’s covering up Gary Frieling’s murder.”

Bobby only looked mildly surprised. “Didn’t take you two long to figure out how things work around here.”

“We’re getting to the bottom of it,” Sam declared. “If I’m gonna live here, it’s not gonna be under the guise of a smiling old man washing away what’s really happening.”

Bobby whistled low. “You two ain’t foolin’.”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest. “You in?”

Bobby huffed a laugh. “I been in for years.”

*************************************************

As night fell, Dean and Sam finished cleaning up from dinner as Gabe and Cas sat talking quietly on the front porch about Sunset Fields and the residents there.

Sam pulled the full bag of trash from the bin as Dean picked up the crate they put their recyclables in. They went out the kitchen door to the outside trash bins, still tossing ideas around about Gary, Deb, Cindy, Don, Maggie, and the oddly high population of imaginary friends among the kids. 

They caught the muffled sound of someone falling, both quietly moving to the corner of Sam’s fence. Two yards over, they made out the shadowy figure of Fletcher getting up from the ground.

“It’s Fletcher,” Sam whispered.

They crossed Deb’s backyard, stepping into the Smiths yard.

“Fletcher, you okay?” Sam asked quietly, startling the little boy, making him gasp and clutch the sheet in his hands up to his chin, his eyes wide with fright. “It’s Sam and Dean,” Sam explained quickly, trying to alleviate the little guy’s fear.

Fletcher’s arms relaxed and he took a big breath. “You scared me.”

“Sorry,” Sam grinned reassuringly. “We thought we heard someone fall.”

“Yeah. The chair got wobbly.”

Next to Fletcher, a lawn chair lay on its side. At his feet lay a set of sheets.

“You okay?” Dean asked.

“I’m okay,” he said quietly, looking at his hands, fidgeting with the wet sheet. Dean gave Sam a look, he knew by the look on his face that Sam was thinking what he was thinking. There was only one reason a little boy would be out late at night hanging wet sheets on the clothesline. He must have wet the bed. He had done it for Sam several times so their dad didn’t know.

“Can I help?” Sam asked, kneeling to pick up a corner of the sheet Fletcher still clutched. He nodded, his curly hair bouncing slightly. Sam fastened one corner while Dean moved to fasten the other corner, the wet fabric rippling in the gentle summer night breeze.

“Me and Sam used to do this too,” Dean said, trying to make the kid feel more comfortable.

“You did?” Fletcher asked, handing them the fitted sheet.

“Yep,” Sam tried for a grin.

“Mommy gets mad,” Fletcher said guiltily, looking up over his shoulder as if he were listening to someone. “Weems said not even a parade could wake her up. Cuz Mommy drank her grown-up juice and went sleepy-bye.”

Dean picked the chair up as Sam knelt down beside him, listening.

“Weems said if we get up super early, they’ll be dry.”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded. “You know if you ever need anything, Fletcher...anything at all, you just come over. Okay?”

Fletcher looked at him for a long moment, then at Dean, then at Weems. “Okay.”

Dean didn’t like it. Not one bit. There was something wrong here. It seemed like there was something wrong in every nook and cranny of this freaking town. And he had a real short fuse for asshole parents, which Cindy and Justin Smith must be.

Grown-up juice.

Fuckers.

And he knew if this bothered him, it bothered Sammy even more.

Perky pony-tailed, martini slinging, tweed suit wearing fuckers.

“Tell ya what,” Dean said, wanting to fix this somehow, “how ‘bout Sam stays here with you. You two can play ball or something, and I’ll just put these sheets in our dryer. It’ll only take twenty minutes tops. Then you can get a good night’s sleep in a nice, dry bed.”

Fletcher looked up at Weems. “He says it’s too dark to play ball. But we could play with my telescope!”

“Yeah!” Sam grinned, spotting the little telescope set up on the patio.

Dean took the sheets and headed to the house. Against his better judgement, he smelled them. The kid was no novice at hiding the habit of peeing in the bed. They smelled clean. He tossed a dryer sheet in with them and started them on high heat to hurry up the process. When he turned to walk out of the laundry room, he gasped, seeing Cas leaning in the doorway, blocking his way out of the tiny room.

“Didn’t know you were a space fan,” Cas smirked.

“Funny. They’re not mine. Fletcher was out in his yard trying to hang them out to dry. He says his parents are too drunk to notice and ‘mommy gets mad’, so...”

Cas looked at the dryer with a pained expression. “I get the feeling the Smiths are not nearly as kind as they pretend to be.”

Dean’s shoulders slumped. “Yeah. Me too. And Sam’s freaking out about it. This kinda shit isn’t good for him, ya know?”

Cas reached forward and pulled him closer by the elbow. “You worry.”

“Of course, I worry. Dickhead bastard faces.”

Cas tried not to smile at his choice of words, but even Dean had to relent a bit with a sigh. He leaned into Cas’ chest, letting him hug him.

“You are a good man,” Cas rumbled low, just loud enough over the dryer for Dean to hear. He kissed him on the temple and rubbed a calming hand up and down his back.

Dean wrapped his arms around him, soaking in the kindness. “You’re a good man,” he mumbled back, getting another kiss to his temple. Dean turned, their mouths finding each other. They exchanged several gentle kisses before Dean’s sleeping dragon of unfulfilled lust had him pressing into him harder until their tongues were greedily seeking touch. He huffed an excited little sound when Cas’ hands gripped him securely along his hips and pulled him flush with his pelvis. Dean ground against him even harder, blessedly getting a groan that spoke the same language that was swirling in Dean’s brain.

“Gross! Get a room!” Gabe yelled, passing the laundry room on his way upstairs, snickering.

Dean pulled back, staring at him with what he hoped conveyed how badly he wanted him. 

“Ignore him,” Cas whispered, hooking a finger into his belt loop. They stared for a small eternity Dean unable to reconcile the vast blue that seemed to seep into him. Not the harsh cold of the Bering Sea. A blue heat that buoyed him and made him hot all over.

“Cas...let’s go...” go where? And do what? Should he just come out and say, ‘let’s go have sex’? Beg? Why couldn’t he just say it? He wanted Cas. In a bed. Hell, the Frieling’s picnic table would suffice! 

“Go where?” Cas asked, looking like he already understood his meaning. Or maybe he could hear the thoughts booming through his mind.

“Camping,” Dean blurted.

Cas grinned, licking his lips slowly. “You want to go camping?”

“Yeah. No. We said we were going camping, so let’s go...somewhere,” Dean said, desperately needing Cas to understand him. 

And like magic, a look of understanding settled onto Cas’ handsome face. One hand left his hip and cupped his cheek, his thumb sliding along his bottom lip as his eyes tracked the movement. “How about we stay somewhere far away.” His eyes lifted to meet his, one corner of his mouth lifting in a teasingly, flirty grin. “Like the moon.”

“The moon?” Dean asked, totally thrown off. “No, Cas, I’m serious.”

“I see that,” Cas grinned harder. “I was thinking a little more local. The Moonlight Motel.”

It was Dean’s turn for dawning understanding to wash over his face. “Yes.”

Cas leaned in, kissing him so deeply that Dean wanted to melt onto the floor and strip for him right then and there. He was backed against the warm, rumbling dryer this time and was shocked when he realized he had one leg wrapped around Cas’ hip and their dicks were grinding hard enough that in a few more minutes they might have to have round two at the motel.

Cas squeezed his ass before pushing himself away from him with the most eager look he had ever seen on the stoic man.

“Oh shit,” Dean panted, two feet on the floor again.

“Go pack a bag. When the laundry is done, we’re out of here.”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded. “Yes! A bag!”

“And we might need a two or three-night camping trip, what do you think?”

Dean wanted to fucking faint. “Yeah,” he said huskily, clearing his throat. A zeal of bravery struck him, knowing Cas wanted him. “And we might not make it back. I’ve heard the view from the moon is pretty spectacular.”

Cas turned away, grinning hard at the dryer. As he noted the crinkles at the corner of Cas’ eyes, he took off, taking the steps two or three at a time. He pulled out one of his duffle bags and began shoving in everything they would need. Everything that he’d had tucked under the bed in case they had sex, but he’d never gotten to use. Clothes were shoved in next, and as he headed out of the room, Cas went in, still grinning. “I’ll be ready shortly,” he said, winking.

“Fucking winking,” Dean said three octaves higher than normal and under his breath as he made his way to the bathroom to get his things.

“Where’re you going?” Gabe asked, seeing him walk past his room with a bag.

“You said get a room, we’re getting a room!” Dean smirked.

“Hey, I was kidding,” Gabe frowned.

“You would definitely appreciate if we got a room,” came Cas’ voice from their room.

Dean and Gabe’s eyes locked in mutual understanding.

A giddy laugh bubbled up before Dean could slap a hand over his own mouth.

“Ew,” Gabe said, his face scrunching.

“Whatever!” Dean laughed, dodging around him to get his things from the shower. “You and Sam aren’t always quiet.”

Gabe lifted both hands in surrender as he stepped back, letting Dean out of the small bathroom. “Alright. Don’t break anything. You two aren’t spring chickens anymore.”

“Shut up, Gabriel,” Dean and Cas snapped, making him chuckle.

Cas went into the bathroom, getting his things and the two exchanged a few quieter words Dean couldn’t hear as he rushed down the stairs to steal a few snacks.

Both of them came down the steps as he yanked his zipper shut on the bulging bag.

“You’ll be back tomorrow, right?” Gabe asked.

“I don’t think so,” Dean said at the same time Cas said, “No.”

Dean took Cas’ bag, taking them both out to toss into the Impala. His insides were jiggly with anticipation. He couldn’t remember ever feeling quite like he did tonight. This was more than scratching an itch. More than ‘liking’ someone. That would explain why he was being so friggin’ tongue-tied, right? Because when it came to Castiel Novak, he couldn’t fuck this up. He could NOT fuck this up. Being around Cas this week had been about more than just the ramping lust twisting his gut. 

He liked Cas.

Like...LIKED.

With their bags slung into the back seat, he shut the door. He turned back to the house, taking a deep breath. 

Yeah, he liked Cas. He liked how he walked. Liked his hands. His grins. His thick, soft hair. The way he treated his brother and Sam. Hell, even his ‘bad cop’ routine! He was funny. He was sweet. He was a little unpredictable. Yeah...he liked Cas like he had never liked someone before. If there were a checklist of things he wanted in a guy, Cas checked every fucking box. Some of them with little stars next to them.

His voice. The way he looked at him, not just in bed but at random moments in the kitchen or walking down the street. He liked who he was and how confidently he operated. And his eyes. God, he loved Cas’ eyes. The color, the looks he gave. And. The. Fucking. Winks.

He was on the porch and through the living room without another thought. He was thinking too much and that’s how he screwed things up. Just fucking go for it. All signs pointed to go, and all lights were green. He was in so fucking deep that he found himself standing in the kitchen looking at both brothers with a little confusion to how he had gotten there and what he was supposed to do.

“Is the dryer done?” Cas asked calmly, easing Dean’s amped up nerves.

“I’ll see,” he said, going to the laundry room hastily. The knob was near the finish mark, so he pulled the door open. Warm, dry sheets fell into his hand. He pulled them out with a triumphant grin. “They’re done!” He called, folding them hastily. He shot the brothers a grin as he rushed through the kitchen. “I’ll be right back,” he said, going out the door.

He heard Gabe say “damn” and a chuckle that might have bothered him on a different night. But not tonight. He didn’t care what Sam or Gabe thought. He was getting exactly what he wanted. SO badly wanted.

He jogged across the Frieling’s yard and up to the patio where Sam sat with Fletcher and the telescope.

“That was quick,” Sam said quietly.

“Yeah!” Dean panted.

“We found Mars!” Fletcher exclaimed.

“You did?” Dean grinned, handing the little boy his sheets. “Let me see.”

He looked into the telescope and saw a blurry ball of light that looked a bit bigger than the others. “Awesome,” he grinned, standing up tall.

“Thanks for helping me with my sheets,” Fletcher said sheepishly.

“Nothin’ to it,” Dean assured him, fist-bumping him. 

“I should go,” Fletcher said, hugging the sheets to his chest.

“Sleep tight,” Sam grinned, rubbing a hand on his back before the little boy disappeared inside.

They walked back to Sam’s house quietly.

“I asked him if his parents ever hit him,” Sam admitted tightly.

Dean cringed inwardly. “And?”

“He says not usually.”

He knew Sam was upset. Hell, he was upset about the situation. “You know you can’t just go off on those people, right? It’s not like he has bruises.”

“He’s unhappy. He’s scared. That much I know. And I’ll do whatever I need to, to help him, Dean.”

“Alright,” Dean relented. “I’m just sayin’, two men helping a kid in a yard in the middle of the night doesn’t exactly look good. Just...be careful.”

“Fuck careful,” Sam snapped.

“Fine.” He understood where Sam was coming from, but these kinds of situations weren’t always easy. “Then be smart.”

Sam nodded. “I’m smarter than they might think. I know the system. And I know that kid needs help.”

“Then we’ll help him,” Dean assured him. “The right way.”

Sam nodded, calming down. They went into the brightly lit kitchen, blinking several times to adjust their eyes to the light.

“Cassie said you were helping the neighbor kid,” Gabe said, tossing a candy bar wrapper in the trash.

“Yeah.” Sam’s look was dark. But he knew Gabe was fully capable of understanding Sam.

“We’re gonna go,” Dean said.

“Go where?” Sam asked, looking confused.

Cas snagged Dean’s hand, pulling him out of the kitchen. “Camping, Sam. We’re going camping,” Cas declared.

Dean smirked at Sam’s look of confusion as Gabe sidled up to him. “They’re going to -”

Dean didn’t hear the rest, but he was pretty sure it was something about rabbits. 

He didn’t give a shit.

Cas didn’t give a shit either. 

They got into the car and left Lily Dale Lane behind.

*********************************************

Castiel unlocked the door to room 24, one of only two ‘suites’ at The Moonlight Motel. He flipped on the light and both eyebrows climbed as he looked around.

They stepped into a room that was separated by two half-walls which were topped with spindles that went to the ceiling. Each spindle was adorned with silver half-moons and stars. Navy blue carpet with specks of silver and black reached wall to wall. In the first half of the room, a kitchenette area had a small fridge, a short white counter and several black cabinets beneath it, each cabinet door bearing a moon and star. A small white table had two black vinyl chairs that matched a loveseat across from it. 

He stepped in further, Dean joining him, closing the door softly. “This place is...”

Cas stared around. Cheesy, came to mind. Ridiculous, as well. But it was roomy and clean for such a dive.

The bedroom section had a sleek, black dresser with a TV on top, two black night stands, and a large bed with a velvety silver/white bedspread. Throw pillows of white, silver, gold, and black satin adorned the comfortable looking bed. Above it hung a huge picture of a mountainscape in black foreground and a vast and beautiful spread of the night sky, stars bright and the Milky Way in all its splendor.

“I like it,” he grinned.

“Me too,” Dean chuckled.

If the lampshades weren’t in the shape of two blocky, white crescent moons, it would have been rather classy.

A bathroom counter with double sinks was at the furthest part of the room, one door leading to a closet, and opposite it, a door that led to the bathroom. The floor was white vinyl with blue stars in the worn pattern that had seen better days. Cas flipped the light on and heard Dean give a little moan. He turned, entranced with the sound, giving him a quizzical look.

“The...wall,” Dean pointed at the wall beside the bed. “It’s glass.”

Cas stepped out of the bathroom, seeing that the dark pattern on the wall beside the bed was actually rippled glass looking into the shower. He turned to Dean with a grin, his heart rate jumping at the eager, yet tentative, look on Dean’s face. 

Well...they’d have to work up to that.

He deliberated for several seconds on just what to do with Dean. He had been waiting with excruciating patience for him to take them a step further. Yet, nothing was happening. But last night, when Dean had come in from the chilly night, he had so willingly let him hold him in bed. He wanted, it seemed, whatever he offered him, but was unable to initiate. He’d never been with someone quite like Dean. It was puzzling to know him as the mouthy deckhand his brother told fantastic stories about. It was another to navigate him truly. And he so badly wanted to navigate him.

At the moment, Dean was looking around the room with a mixture of amusement and trepidation. Knowing how eager his hands had been less than an hour ago, Cas decided to bank on the notion that Dean wanted him as badly as he had back at Gabe’s. He’d never really been the lead in a relationship before, but the closer he got to testing the waters, the more he wanted to do it. He had waited night after night for Dean to take them to the next step, but nothing was happening. As Dean kissed him tonight, it finally dawned on him that Dean was not shy in taking the next step. He was shy about initiating the next step.

“Want to unpack?” Cas asked, knowing the hour was late, but hoped the task would put Dean at ease.

“Yeah,” he said softly, sitting his bulging bag on the foot of the bed. He unzipped it, beaming as he pulled the top most item out. “Dude. I took the strawberry pie.”

Cas laughed, taking the partially eaten pie from him, loving the red blush in his cheeks. He put it in the fridge and put his own bag on the loveseat. The two went to work quickly dividing drawers and putting clothes away. Dean had managed to take a decent number of snacks and fruit. As he put three apples and a bunch of bananas on the counter, he wondered just what sort of shape they would be in for breakfast. For what seemed like the millionth time since his arrival in Charming Acres, he coaxed his hardening dick to behave itself and wait.

He leaned against the half-wall, amused at the tacky moons and stars, and watched Dean finish putting his things in the bathroom. He tossed his empty bag into the closet and closed the door. His body language had relaxed, and he seemed so much more comfortable as he was working. But within seconds of being finished with his work, his nerves seemed to ramp up.

They caught sight of each other, Dean blushing as he realized he had been watching him. But honestly, he could just watch Dean do anything. Trying not to show his amusement, he bit back his harder grin and crossed the bedroom area, taking Dean by the hand.

“I need a shower before we go to bed.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Dean nodded. “I’ll go after you.”

Cas wanted to pout that Dean didn’t offer to join him, but again, he would wait. He did, however, pull Dean close to himself and kiss him chastely, earning him an adorable grin.

He showered quickly, wondering the entire time if Dean was watching him through the glass wall. He may have stretched and bent and stroked himself unnecessarily, in hopes of driving Dean crazy.

When he got out, Dean dodged direct eye contact and held a light blush on his cheeks until he closed the bathroom door behind him and got into the shower.

Cas had intended on getting into the bed to wait for him, debating boxers or not. But all he could do was watch Dean work quickly and efficiently through the beveled glass.

He was a magnificent creature.

When Dean came out in a puff of steam, towel wrapped around his waist, Cas was sitting on the side of the bed, making no bones about the fact that he had watched him. Dean stopped and stood between the foot of the bed and the dresser, debating on whether to put clothes on or not. Cas jumped to his feet, still only in a towel. He came in front of Dean, lightly grabbing his wrist to stop him from opening a drawer.

“Dean,” he said carefully, “would you like to come to bed with me?”

“Yeah,” Dean huffed a laugh, glancing around the room. “That loveseat looks a little too small,” he joked, looking adorable. And then there was the fact he was standing there in just a towel, and Castiel realized just how gorgeous Dean really was. His shoulders sloped into well-muscled arms, with hands that looked rough on the palms from years of cold and hauling rope. His pecs were well defined, one bearing a tattoo. His abs were mildly defined, tapering into the fluffy edges of his towel. Only then did Cas realize just how boldly he was staring. How he was devouring the man with his eyes. His own gaze snapped up to meet Dean’s steady one.

“Dean,” Cas said, again trying to be gentle while his libido roared for an animalistic release. He couldn’t stop the magnetic pull, the power that drew them together. He stepped closer, cupping Dean’s cheek in his hand and pulled him into a kiss. Their lips fell apart as Dean gasped at his touch, his hands sliding greedily around his back to pull him in. He grinned, open mouthed, luxuriating as Dean’s rough hands slid along his back. “Dean,” he whispered, kissing his chin, cheek, jaw, anything he could reach, “may I make love to you?” His lips ghosted along Dean’s jaw until he heard him utter a strangled ‘Yes’ in return. The simple word was as powerful as a high voltage shock, jolting him into action. He took Dean’s mouth by storm, like he wanted to. Like he needed to. They both moaned into a kiss that was amping up in passion until Castiel got a shock he should have been expecting.

Their dicks collided, hot, stiff skin to skin, head to shaft to balls. Both looked down in shock as the jostled towels now lay puddled around their feet.

“Oops,” Castiel grinned, looking back up at him, grinning into his green eyes. Seeing Dean only licked his lips with anticipation, Cas looked back down at the two proud cocks jutting up between them. Their dusky heads were three shades darker than their abdomens and each one leaned toward the other as if drawn together. Castiel cupped them both together in his hands, stroking slow and steady, invigorated by Dean’s intake of breath, his whole body bowing slightly into him. He swept over the tips with his thumbs, entranced at the power he had.

Dean bit his lip and grabbed the top of the TV with one hand to steady himself. The other hand reached around, holding onto the back of Castiel’s neck, anchoring them both in place. Never had he felt so in control of a partner. He liked it. He loved seeing Dean fall apart, his head drop down only to tilt back as he stroked again, the long swallow down the column of his throat and the heaving of his chest. And he stroked again, smooth, slow, undulating some pressure to watch Dean squirm, then sweep over the tips of their heads again and watch him shiver.

“I wasn’t sure you wanted this,” Cas murmured, watching their heads disappear into his fists.

“So bad,” Dean panted, gripping his neck harder, tipping his pelvis to press their balls together. 

“So bad?” Cas cooed back, all his worries crashing to nonexistence. “All you had to do was tell me,” he whispered, kissing Dean’s exposed throat, opening his mouth to taste his skin as Dean’s chin tucked down in a ticklish shy-away. Cas gripped their cocks harder, stroking more strongly, dragging a moan from Dean that made him moan back in return. “I’ll give you anything, Dean,” he rumbled, feeling Dean’s knees go weak. “Anything you want,” he added, loving how he was melting into his hands.

“Bed, Cas,” Dean managed, his arms wrapping around him and one leg starting to slide up Cas’ leg.

His hands abandoned their cocks, making Dean gasp. He bent and scooped Dean up, who quickly wrapped his legs around his hips. Castiel was no stranger to moving grown men around, but he was still elated to see that he could handle Dean. And by the excited, breathy look of awe on his face, Dean liked it too.

He turned carefully and took the two steps to the bed. And though he wanted to throw him on it and ravage him, he rounded the end of the bed and laid him down like the gem he was. It was not just his eyes that sparkled like emeralds, but his entire body was precious and needed to be tended to and marked. Marked with kisses and raking fingernails, and tasted.

Dean backed further onto the bed, Cas crawling on top of him move for move until Dean’s head lay among the satin pillows. For every one Cas tossed to the floor, he kissed Dean’s mouth, his jaw, his neck, his collar bone. Flat and free of distractions, straddling him, Cas looked at him again. He wanted to see Dean, to know he was alright. Know he was being not only satisfied; but pleased.

Dean blinked up at him, chest still rising and falling with anticipation. There was merriment in his eyes and eagerness in his hands as they skated along Castiel’s sides.

Cas grinned wide, so pleased with this.

I’m in love.

The thought hit him so gently and unexpectedly that Cas gasped just slightly, the hitch in his breath caught by Dean’s watchful eyes. He could say it. It could just tumble out so easily. So freely. But the words might be too much for Dean. Too soon or too scary.

“What?” Dean grinned.

“I just can’t stop looking at you,” Cas admitted, and it was true enough. “I’ve been looking at you for years and...it’s like I’m seeing you for the first time.”

Dean’s smile sobered a little.

“Too mushy?” He smirked, nipping Dean’s neck to make him squirm.

“Yes!” Dean laughed, but his eyes said otherwise.

Oh, Dean Winchester, I am going to love you so thoroughly that the rest of the world will pale in comparison, like it already has for me.

“Stop!” Dean laughed harder, burrowing away from Castiel’s mouth on his neck.

“Is that a real stop or a keep going stop,” Cas asked right into his wet skin, sucking and laving it with his tongue.

“A keep going,” Dean barely managed, his hips rising to grind into Cas’. “I like to bottom,” Dean babbled, grinding again. “So like to bottom. Is that okay? Can we...I want...”

Cas released the skin he had been gently devouring and stared right into Dean’s startled eyes. “You get whatever you want. Do you know why?”

“Why?” Dean asked in a tiny voice, watching him so carefully.

“Because I’m going to make it my mission to know this body.” He kissed Dean’s chest. “To figure out everything you like.” He licked across one nipple, getting a definite positive reaction.

“I like everything!” Dean gasped. “And that!”

Castiel moaned, taking the nipple between his teeth, teasing it with his tongue until Dean was arching upward with little gasps of pleasure. Castiel spread his knees, Dean’s legs wrapping around his hips naturally. He let go of the nipple, kissing his way down Dean’s ribs. “I want to just shove my way deep inside you,” he panted, kissing down his belly until his chin bumped into the head of Dean’s cock, making them both moan. “I won’t,” he said, staring at the beautiful cock he was going to taste for the first time. “But I want to.”

He licked a wide, steady strip up the underside of Dean’s cock and then swallowed him. He pulled off long enough to say “Lube” and found it a very fun game to keep sucking him down while Dean struggled to reach the nightstand drawer and pull out lube and condoms, tossing them on the bed.

“Cas!” Dean rocked, overwhelmed with the blowjob. 

But that’s what Cas wanted. He wanted him at the brink, so when he drove his first finger inside him, Dean was all over the place. He quickly added a second finger and pulled off of his cock to watch Dean’s face as his body squirmed for release. “That’s it,” Cas grinned, spreading his fingers, scissoring and working him open. “You do want me, don’t you?”

“I do!” Dean panted, grinding down onto his fingers with a whine. He was already shaking, and Cas hadn’t even gotten inside him.

“Slow down,” Cas chuckled, stroking him slower inside. He watched in awe as Dean’s body slowed instantly, spreading, and relaxing. “God, you’re perfect,” Cas murmured, kissing Dean’s knee. He added a third finger and watched as Dean fucked onto him slowly, eyes squeezed shut and body loose. “So perfect,” Cas said in awe, kissing down the inside of his thigh, spreading with his fingers until neither could take any more. He pulled out, nibbling the inside of Dean’s thigh as he put his own condom on. Dean’s eyes were open now and watching him, anxious and eager. He stroked his own sheathed cock several times to adjust the condom, added lube and met Dean’s eyes as he lined them up. Dean nodded and he pressed his way inside, both breathing out as he breached the tightest muscles at his rim with his swollen, leaking head. 

“Shove it,” Dean panted, “shove it in deep.”

It was Cas’ turn to whine and squeeze his eyes shut in absolute pleasure as he pressed forward, deep, deep, deep until their pelvises met. He gripped Dean around the waist and breathed heavily to steady himself. As his eyes opened, he marveled at what he held in his hands. The body. The man. The possibility.

Dean blew out another breath and Castiel could feel his walls of muscle relax. What normally would have set him into a pounding torrent of sex, had him leaning down to kiss him. He gasped through the first three kisses until his body completely bent to Castiel’s will. He moved his hips for a test of ease, finding him incredibly intuitive in return.

“So good,” Dean huffed, fighting upward suddenly to kiss him deeply. Castiel moved again, bracing his hands around Dean’s shoulders to pull him in impossibly closer, grinding into him, then pistoning with short, deep drives, slow and then fast, slow and then fast. Dean’s cock was sandwiched between their abdomens and he did his best to brush against it as he moved.

“Harder!” Dean panted, gripping Cas by the ass, spreading with more flexibility than ever he would have predicted from him. Cas went up onto his hands for better leverage, watching as Dean chased a desperate release. He moved and panted, squeezed his eyes closed and leaned up to watch, all with a look of desperate need until Cas gripped his cock, stroking it in rhythm with his thrusting until Dean was calling out, climbing a crescendo until he came, Castiel barely holding on before coming deep and hard inside him. 

They both panted through several after-waves of ecstasy before Cas pulled out and collapsed next to him. They lay for several deescalating moments, blinking up at the ceiling covered in little glow-in-the-dark stars.

Dean’s head lifted from his pillow, his hand lifted, fingers spread wide. Cas chuckled at the cum dripping from his fingers. Dean huffed a laugh, dropping his hand back to his chest in exhaustion.

“I’ll get a warm wash cloth,” Cas sighed in amusement. But before getting out of the bed, he rolled over to Dean, looking at him.

Dean’s eyes darted away, not that Cas was surprised. One thing he DID know about Dean, was that his relationships were not long lived. But now that he understood (or hoped he understood) him better, he knew his next moves might be his most important yet.

He ran his finger over the curve of his pec, collecting semen until he brought it to his own mouth, tasting him. Dean’s brow lifted, watching him. Rather than speak, Cas leaned down and swept his tongue across one nipple, suckling it with a swirling tongue. Dean’s hand fisted softly in his hair as his hips rocked and he made a crooning sound. With a naughty little giggle, he let the pearled nub of his nipple go and licked his lips. Dean sighed in relief as his body settled back to limp and heavy.

Cas straddled him again, peppering Dean’s grinning face with kisses.

“Mmmm, thought you were getting a wash cloth,” Dean chuckled.

“I am,” Cas grinned, kissing him on the mouth playfully, then again, and again, until playful turned to steamy. Not until Dean was chasing after him with kisses did he get out of the bed. He ran water until it was warm, then came to the bed and wiped Dean clean. It was obvious no one had ever done this for him. He tried to take the washcloth several times, Cas batting his hand away gently.

“You don’t have to do that,” Dean murmured.

“Nonsense. I made you a mess. Now, I’m just cleaning up.” 

By now, it was very late (more like early the next day) and Castiel made short work of cleaning himself up and getting back in bed. He scooted close to Dean. “I hope you don’t mind, but I am a cuddler.”

“I knew you were a winker,” Dean teased, turning to settle into him as the small to his big spoon. Castiel kissed the back of Dean’s neck and relished in the ability to touch him all over.

“Cas?” Dean asked so softly he almost didn’t hear him.

“Yes?”

“...were you...waiting for me to...make the first move?”

“I believe I made the first move,” he said gently, kissing Dean’s shoulder. “And the second. But, yes. I was waiting for a sign from you that you were ready.”

“Yeah...I just...I don’t usually...”

“I figured that out,” Cas snickered, kissing his neck, and pulling him even closer, their feet entangling comfortably. Dean snuggled in, sighing and truly relaxing in his arms. “I thought I might die before you so much as touched me in bed.”

“We kissed!” Dean said, turning his shoulders to look back at him with an incredulous look.

“Mm, I kissed you.” He kissed him on the nose, Dean blinking at him with a baffled look.

“I kissed you back!”

“You did.” He perched his chin on Dean’s shoulder, gazing at him with all the adoration his heart could shine.

“We held hands,” Dean went on, losing his steam, his baffled look stuttering into an increasingly embarrassed smile. “I suck at making moves.”

Cas leaned in, kissing him. “I got that.”

Dean’s head dropped back to his pillow with a groan. “And I suck at pillow talk.”

Cas returned to perching on his shoulder and smiling down on him. “I wouldn’t say that.”

Dean chuckled. “I’ve hardly said anything!”

“Mm mm,” Cas shook his head, “I’ve been reading your body language all night.”

Dean turned, his back on the mattress now, looking at him curiously. “Oh really. What am I saying right now?”

Mmm. Tough. Tell him how adorably macho he was? Or play coy? Tell him how devastatingly gorgeous he was? Quit pushing his luck and just shut up and go to sleep?

Action. Speak his language back.

He held his gaze as he moved over top of him, straddling him.

“I said climb on top of me?” Dean chuckled, putting his hands behind his head.

“You said, kiss me goodnight.” Cas whispered, teasing both his nipples lightly as he leaned down, kissing him.

“Damn,” Dean said breathlessly as Cas worked his way down Dean’s neck.

“It was a loose translation,” Cas grinned, kissing him deeply again. This time, when Cas laid down next to him, Dean followed him. He snuggled into his side, Cas wrapping an arm around him.

“Goodnight,” Dean said sleepily, kissing a random spot on his chest. 

Cas ran his fingers through Dean’s hair slowly. “Goodnight,” he whispered back. He hugged Dean to him, kissing the top of his head.


	9. From Affirmations to Final Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets affirmated. 
> 
> Sam survives a corn soup rally.
> 
> Gabe spoils the old and young alike.
> 
> Cas has his first day at work and man, it’s quite a doozy.

Chapter 9: From Affirmations to Final Words  
  
  
Castiel woke, surrounded by the most pleasurable textures he could ever remember waking up to. Velvety soft blankets, supple sheets, fluffy pillows, and miles of warm skin. Hints of juniper from the motel’s body wash, Moonlit Walk, made him inhale deep and slow as his nose brushed softly over the skin nearest him. He blinked his eyes, taking in the suite around them. The stars that had glowed dully above them last night were now pale against the navy-blue ceiling. He hadn’t noticed the blue velvet curtains with gold stars that were now fighting back the morning light. He turned, looking at the head of messy hair in front of him. He had been sleeping with Dean for some time now but waking up with full access to his body was brand new. A smile crept along his lips before he leaned forward and kissed his shoulder. Mornings had been solitary until today. Dean didn’t require much sleep, staying in bed only four to six hours. He was always gone when Castiel woke up at Sam and Gabe’s.   
  
But not today.  
  
At the kiss to his shoulder, Dean turned, peeking at him.  
  
“You stayed in bed,” Cas taunted, pulling Dean back so he was now flat on the mattress.  
  
“I was enjoying myself,” Dean grinned back, voice scratchy.  
  
“You’re usually gone when I wake up.” Cas pushed covers out of his way so he could run his fingers wherever he pleased over Dean’s chest and abdomen.  
  
“That’s because I was going insane waiting for you to make a move,” Dean admitted.  
  
Rather than joke this off, Castiel studied every pore and hair his fingers trailed. “Now that I understand you better, that won’t be a problem.” In his peripheral vision, he saw Dean’s brow furrow slightly. He faced him, staring. Trying to figure out just what made him tick. “Dean...you will be honest about what you want, right?”  
  
“Yeah,” he answered automatically, immediately frowning.  
  
“I’m going to take that as a no. Which is concerning.”  
  
Dean frowned a little harder, eyes avoiding him.  
  
“I don’t know how this worked for you in the past,” Cas went on carefully, “but I need to know what you are thinking.”  
  
“I’m not thinking anything,” Dean huffed defensively.  
  
Castiel scrambled for which trail of thinking to follow, becoming frustrated himself. “So, say I start doing something, like call you Muffin. You don’t like it, then it bothers you, over and over, then you either leave me or blow up and I won’t even see it coming, when all you had to do was say; hey, don’t call me Muffin. If you don’t tell me, it’s not fair to either of us, Dean.”  
  
Dean’s eyes scanned the ceiling. “Don’t...”  
  
“Don’t what?” Cas encouraged, pushing on Dean’s side gently to nudge him.  
  
“Well, don’t call me Muffin.”  
  
Castiel’s smile bloomed.  
  
Dean glanced at him, then back to the ceiling, his body, which had begun to stiffen, relaxed again. “Or sweetie, or any of those....things.”  
  
Cas chuckled, sitting up. “See? That wasn’t so terrible!”  
  
Dean stretched, capturing Cas’ hand, which was still tracing little lines over his ribs. “You’re a pain in the butt.”  
  
Cas giggled again. “Well, I’m your pain in the butt, so you might as well help me in this...relationship. Speaking of which,” he pulled Dean’s hand to his mouth, kissing his knuckles, “what are we, exactly? Boyfriends?”  
  
Dean stared at him. His mouth moved but nothing came out.  
  
“Too soon?” Cas amended, rubbing the rough knuckles across his lips, trying to hide his disappointment.  
  
“No...” Dean said quietly. “It’s not too soon.”  
  
Castiel grinned wide again, letting their now clasped hands drop down to Dean’s chest. “Dean Winchester, will you be my boyfriend?”  
  
Dean chuckled, eyes closing with a slight blush pinking his cheeks. “That sounds so...high school.”  
  
“I assure you; it is not. I want to know,” Cas pressed gently. “I would very much like to be.”  
  
Dean’s embarrassment faded. “Yeah, Cas. We can be...yeah.”  
  
“Good.” Cas kissed him one quick peck and got out of bed. “Would you like to go for breakfast?”  
  
“I love breakfast,” Dean said in a whoosh, sitting up. “I’m a breakfast guy.”  
  
As they got ready, Castiel could not stop smiling. He loved Dean. He was a Dean guy. And though he was working hard to push Dean past his comfort zones, he kept the rest of their morning conversation light.  
  
  
*****  
  
  
They did a quick drive around Charming Acres and settled for Good Graces Cafe. Neither had eaten there yet and it seemed like their best bet for a sit-down breakfast.  
  
“Hello! First time at Good Graces?” the host said as soon as they walked in. He smiled at them both like they were adorable friends he had not seen in years.  
  
Dean bristled immediately.  
  
“Yes,” Cas said, taking Dean’s hand before he could turn around and leave.  
  
“We are locally sourced by a dynamic, and you get a free affirmation with every meal!”   
  
Dean balked. “Think I’ll source the local taco joint.”  
  
The man’s tranquil grin quickly dropped with a shrug.  
  
“Dean,” Cas said, holding his grip on his hand. “I am not eating tacos for breakfast.”  
  
Dean sighed, shrugging off the peaceful air around them, like it might stain his attire. “Fine.”  
  
“We would like a seat,” Cas amended, nodding his head at the host kindly.  
  
  
“This way,” he grinned again, taking them to a table for two in the middle of the busy cafe. “And what can I get you?”  
  
“What are your specials?” Cas asked, glancing at a menu on the table.  
  
“You!” The waiter grinned, holding his hands out. “Our patrons are our special. You, are special.”  
  
Dean’s irritation was quickly ramping up, but Castiel could only find it funny. “Thank you,” he said, glancing at the menu and nudging Dean’s foot under the table before he said something crass.  
  
The waiter turned to Dean with the same endearing smile.   
  
Eyes lifting to him in a marked effort to be civil, Dean said, “Pancakes, side of pig, coffee, black.”  
  
“Very well. And you are a virile manifestation of the divine.”  
  
The ‘free affirmation’ landed on hostile ears. Dean glared up at him, making Castiel bite back another laugh as the waiter turned an unperturbed smile onto him.  
  
“I’ll have the same,” Castiel said, trying to keep the man’s presence at their table to a minimum, for Dean’s sake.  
  
“Very well. And you are -”  
  
“If you affirmate my boyfriend, I’m gonna punch you in the face,” Dean snapped.  
  
The waiter glanced at Cas, who gave him an apologetic grin. “Alrighty then. Coffee, coming up!” He said, leaving the table in a rush.   
  
“What the hell did he just say?” Dean scoffed. “Virile my ass.”  
  
“Dean,” Cas said soothingly, “he was complimenting you.”  
  
“Well, I don’t like it. This place is hippie central. If I ask nice, I could probably get a side of HASH hash-browns.”  
  
Castiel chuckled. He wasn’t sure why Dean got away with being such a jerk at times. There was just something so adorable about his discomfort and the looks he gave.  
  
“You need to be nice,” he warned.  
  
Dean gave him an incredulous look, arms going wide, “I am being nice! If he pulled that shit in Alaska, we’d be settling this in the alley!”  
  
Cas leaned forward. “Settling it...how? Fighting or fucking?”  
  
Shocked, Dean sat more upright. “What are you talkin’ about?”  
  
“He obviously thinks you’re quite handsome,” Cas admitted.  
  
“What?! Dude. No.”  
  
Castiel shrugged. He sat back as the waiter brought them coffee, smiling dreamily as he poured and walked away. Maybe Dean was right. There could be hashish in the food. The guy was unflappably happy.  
  
“Fine,” Cas relented, “this is a hippie restaurant. But there is nothing wrong with sourcing foods locally and praising your patrons to improve their day.”  
  
Dean shook his head, completely ignoring the waiter’s return. His gruff anger softened, and he shrugged his shoulders a little. “There’s nothing wrong with local food.”  
  
“Or organic food,” Cas added.  
  
Dean stared at him with a mixture of a whimper and a growl. “You’re gonna make me eat healthy, aren’t you?”  
  
Cas grinned. “I do prefer you live a very long time.”  
  
Dean grinned, looking down at the table as he blushed. “Yeah. Okay.”  
  
“And since I got my way for breakfast, lunch is up to you,” Cas grinned.  
  
“I...” his eyes got that star-struck look they get sometimes, and he fidgeted in his seat. “Then we can eat in the room.”  
  
A warm flush swept over Castiel, his heart swelling. Oh my, oh my. Dean was going to be the end of him. “Sounds perfect,” he whispered, liking the heat that bloomed in Dean’s cheeks as he held his stare.  
  
  
*******  
  
  
After breakfast, they walked to the little grocery store to pick up a few things to have in the room later. Heading back toward the car, Castiel stopped to look in the window of The Emporium.  
  
“Wanna go in?” Dean asked.  
  
As his eye traveled over the vast array of items, he nodded. He found pawn shops and thrift stores to be quite interesting treasure hunts.  
  
Inside, two narrow aisles held more things than Castiel could take in. Dean picked up a guitar, fiddling with the tuning keys. Castiel found a rack of old postcards, looking through for interesting ones.  
  
He picked out several and took them to the clerk to pay for them. As he laid them on the glass counter, he noticed the jewelry below the glass. The Emporium had some nice pieces, but he had little interest in jewelry. The man at the register gave him his change and receipt, plus a flyer.  
  
Dean took the flyer as Castiel waited for the store owner to bag the cards.  
  
“Oh look,” Dean smirked, “Charming Acres is having a psychic festival. Yay.”  
  
“Melanie and her grandmother are both providing readings,” Cas noted.  
  
“And...” Dean looked at the man at the register, “Jimmy Tomorrow.”  
  
“That’s me,” Jimmy grinned, leaning on his counter.  
  
“Lotta psychic people here?” Dean asked.  
  
“Just a few of us. But we got some interesting folks coming for the festival. One guy bends spoons.”  
  
“Huh,” Dean said flatly, holding his comments back.  
  
“I’m...sure we’ll see you there,” Cas grinned politely, taking Dean’s hand as they left. The door to the shop was barely closed before Dean was unleashing his true thoughts.  
  
“Why would you WANT your spoons bent? What could you possibly get from that?”  
  
Cas chuckled. “I have no idea. I do foresee us heading back to the motel.”  
  
Dean’s edgy demeanor relaxed. “Yeah?”  
  
“It’s barely ten in the morning and I’m already hot,” Cas said. “Let’s go enjoy some air conditioning and...”  
  
Dean grinned wide. “I see happy endings in your future. The very near future.”  
  
  
**************************************  
  
  
Charming Acres Annual Corn Soup Rally was as festive as all its celebrations. Smaller than a fair, there were still plenty of booths set up to sell drinks, desserts, and of course, corn soup. Red, white, and blue decorations adorned the booths and skirted the stage. It was a little shocking to realize how well they knew so many people already. They had ridden with the Carrigans as planned but had split up in the crowd easily enough.  
  
“Why, in 100-degree weather, would you serve soup?” Gabe groused.  
  
“I don’t know,” Sam muttered, pulling his hair back into a tiny ponytail. “Add it to the list.”  
  
“What list?” Gabe asked, handing over two dollars for his third lemonade.  
  
“My reasons-to-sell-the-house list.”  
  
Gabe frowned, offering his Samshine the first drink as they moved back into the crowd of people milling about. “Come on. It’s not that bad here. Example A.” Gabe pointed.  
  
Sam turned, seeing Melanie coming toward them. He smiled, waving at her and Camille.   
  
“Hi!” The ladies said, Camille looking as hot and uncomfortable as Sam felt.   
  
“You here to listen to Chip’s campaign speech?” Sam asked.  
  
“Yeah,” Melanie smiled easily. “Camille and I have a booth set up too.”  
  
“Nice,” Sam grinned.  
  
Melanie stepped a little closer. “Actually, I’ve been trying to get ahold of Dean today. I called him twice but haven’t gotten an answer. Is he here?”  
  
“No,” Sam smirked. “He’s off...camping or something.”  
  
“He’s at the Moonlight Motel,” Camille noted matter of factly.  
  
“Um,” Sam stammered.  
  
“Is that what your psychic tinglings tell you?” Gabe grinned.  
  
“No. I saw his car in the parking lot,” Camille said.  
  
“And you didn’t tell me?” Melanie laughed.  
  
“You didn’t ask! I’ve also heard that he and Cas are dating. Sonny said they were at Harrington’s making goo-goo eyes at each other.”  
  
Gabe and Sam both chuckled at that. “Yeah, they’re dating,” Sam confirmed. “And he’s been ignoring me today too, Melanie, so...you can try again later, I guess.”  
  
“What did you need?” Gabe asked.  
  
“I’m going out of town again, leaving on Monday. I was wondering if he and Cas might be interested in house sitting for me.”  
  
“I’m sure he would,” Sam said, pulling his phone out to text him.  
  
“We might have to break in and shake down their love fest on the moon,” Gabe said with entirely too much amusement, making Melanie and Camille laugh.  
  
“I usually have the neighbor girl do it, but she’s going to be away too,” Melanie went on.  
  
“I’m sure he’ll be fine with it. Let’s try him again.” Sam called Dean, the whole group stepping aside so people could continue gathering around the stage.  
  
“What’s up, Sammy?”  
  
“We were getting worried about you two!” Sam grinned. “Thought you might need rescuing.”  
  
“We’re good. Just chillin’ in our nice, air-conditioned room.”  
  
Sam rolled his eyes, hearing the tease in his voice. “Yeah? Bite me.”  
  
Dean laughed. “Seriously, what do you want?”  
  
“Here,” he handed Melanie the phone.  
  
“Dean!” She smiled, wincing at the unsuspecting Dean on the other end. “It’s Melanie Golden.”  
  
She smiled as Dean was making excuses for why he hadn’t called her back yet. “It’s no problem,” she assured him. “I was just wondering if you would be interested in house sitting for me this week. I have a cat and three finicky plants.” Her face lit up with a smile. “Awesome. Of course! And you two can stay for the week. Help yourself to whatever food is there and I’ll have clean sheets on the guest bed for you.” She nodded, smiling at Dean’s words. “Great! See you Sunday night!” She chuckled, “Yes, that is tomorrow.”  
  
She handed the phone back to Sam, who put it to his ear, not surprised that Dean had already hung up.   
  
“Thank you! I was worried I’d have to ask the Carrigans again. They’re nice, but the one and only time they house sat for me, the place stunk of tobacco when I got home, and my cat didn’t come out for almost a week.”  
  
“I’d be glad to help if Dean can’t,” Sam assured her. “Anytime.”  
  
A handful of high school students started playing band instruments, getting everyone’s attention directed toward the stage. Sam caught a glimpse of Maggie and Don Stark near the stage. Maggie had a smile plastered onto her face, but her sharp eyes and quick moving mouth gave her away. She was chewing out Don for something. Don looked morosely apologetic, the pair parting with Maggie storming off in a huff-walk and Don heading onto the stage to support Chip. Gabe ushered the two ladies ahead of them as they gathered with the crowd to listen to Chip and his speech for re-election as mayor. He was running unopposed, much to Sam and Gabe’s disappointment.  
  
As Chip went on about how wonderful Charming Acres was, how safe he helped their town to be, and how he planned to improve some of the areas that needed to be cleaned up, Sam spied the Smiths near the front of the crowd. Fletcher stood with them, wearing a suit that looked like a boarding school uniform. He kept fidgeting with the collar, getting a swat from Cindy. All Sam could think about was the uncomfortable little boy and the Smiths caring only about what he looked like.  
  
As the crowd broke apart when the speech ended, Sam gave Gabe an incredulous look when he made a beeline for the Smiths. Whatever he was saying, he looked really excited about it, making Cindy and Justin smile. His gaping jaw snapped shut when Gabe took Fletcher by the hand and headed toward him, leaving Cindy and Justin behind.  
  
“Hi!” Sam said gladly, seeing Fletcher smile shyly. His eyes lifted to Gabe in question.  
  
“I gave the Smiths the day off. Fletcher is gonna hang out with us until 9:00 tonight.”  
  
Sam’s smile widened. “You’re amazing.”  
  
“I know,” Gabe shrugged, knowing he had just won over Sam’s heart for the millionth time. He looked down at the little, curly-haired boy. “Want some popcorn?”  
  
Fletcher bit his bottom lip, eyes going wide with excitement as he nodded his head. They got in line, buying him popcorn, cotton candy, and a soda. By the time they were through the line, Fletcher was atop Sam’s shoulders, munching popcorn and smiling a mile wide with Gabe carrying his tie and suit jacket so he was more comfortable.  
  
“Well lookie there!” Ed chuckled, finding them in the crowd. “I see we picked up another passenger!”  
  
“Hope you don’t mind, Ed,” Gabe said smoothly. “We were just being neighborly.”  
  
Ed chuckled, patting his shoulder. “He’s a good chap, aren’t you, Fletcher?”  
  
Sam couldn’t see Fletcher’s face, but he could feel him immediately tense at Ed and Madge’s approach. “He’s awesome!” Sam interjected.  
  
“Well,” Madge said, joining them, “Fletcher is riding home with us?”  
  
“Yes,” Sam grinned. “I hope that’s alright with you.”  
  
Madge smiled like an adoring grandma. “Why, sure!”  
  
They followed the Carrigans to the parking lot, which was a field next to the fairground. At their car, Sam had the little boy sit between Gabe and himself in the back seat, keeping him distracted by asking about what the fairs were like here.   
  
Once they were back to the Carrigans’ house, Ed invited them inside, but they neatly declined, taking Fletcher to their own house.  
  
Fletcher came inside, looking around with wide, curious eyes. Gabe left as soon as they got home, leaving Sam to entertain him with a game of checkers at the kitchen table. More than halfway through the game, Fletcher looked over his shoulder and smiled.  
  
“Is Weems helping you play?” Sam grinned.  
  
Fletcher’s face lit up. “No. But he says he likes it here. And I do too.”  
  
Sam’s shoulders relaxed. “I’m glad.”  
  
Fletcher moved a checker. “I don’t like staying at Ed and Marge’s house. I can’t play there.”  
  
“Oh. What do you do?”  
  
“Read. Watch TV. Sometimes they let me have cookies.”  
  
“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Sam said softly. “How often do you go there?”  
  
Fletcher shrugged. “On Fridays. So Cindy and Justin can go to the store, and drink grown-up juice.”  
  
Sam’s jaw tightened. “Well...you can come here any time. I’ll talk to your parents about it, okay?”  
  
Fletcher nodded with a smile. “I’ll be good. And quiet.”  
  
“I’M BACK!” Gabe called as the front door banged open. “I HAVE FUN STUFF!”  
  
Fletcher and Sam exchanged an excited look. “You don’t have to be quiet here. You just be a kid.”  
  
Fletcher ran to Gabe. “What’s that?” He asked, hands ringing as he stepped back and forth, eyes roving over two bulging bags.  
  
“I have surprises!” Gabe grinned, holding the bags a little higher. “But first, you gotta go potty.”  
  
Fletcher dashed into the bathroom while Gabe brought the bags to the kitchen table.  
  
“What was that about?” Sam asked.  
  
“The pee-pee dance? Dude’s little. Sometimes they need reminded of such trivial things as stopping to pee.”  
  
“Huh,” Sam grinned.  
  
“And I had plenty of motivation right here. I got him two outfits, tons of Legos, play dough, crayons, a ball, another ball, I was gonna get a bike. I’ve never seen him on a bike, have you?”  
  
Sam’s heart was near bursting with love and pride, blemished only slightly for not providing him an opportunity to parent sooner. Gabriel was absolutely glowing and having so much fun.  
  
“What did you get?” asked Fletcher, peeking at all the things now laying on the table.  
  
“First of all, better clothes to play in. You like Star Wars?” He handed him a pair of cotton shorts and matching Star Wars t-shirt.  
  
“Cool!” Fletcher looked back up at him with such joy. “I’ve seen them before, but I’m not allowed to watch the movies.”  
  
“We’ll fix that,” Gabe said quickly, pulling out another shirt and pair of jeans. This shirt had a dinosaur on it.  
  
“That’s for me?” Fletcher asked, wide-eyed.  
  
“Yeah! So when you come over, we can play! No offense, but you look like you’re ready to ship off to Durmstrang Institute.” Fletcher blinked at him owlishly. “You don’t get to watch Harry Potter either? Okay, that just...go change, buddy.”  
  
Fletcher ran back to the bathroom.  
  
“You can’t fill his head with Harry Potter and Star Wars if the Smiths don’t want that,” Sam warned. “Besides, you’ll just end up getting him in trouble.”  
  
“I got ya! Sorry, my bad. For ten minutes I forgot I was in Charming Acres.”  
  
Sam moved over, hugging him to his side. “It could be the violence. Some parents try to curb that at such a young age.”  
  
“Fine. I’ll hold off movie night then. But I’m not taking back the water balloons.”  
  
Sam laughed. “That’s fair.”  
  
  
  
************************************  
  
  
  
Dean was sad to see Moonlight Motel in his rearview mirror. Who knew a dive motel would have been such a perfect place? But they had agreed to house sit for Melanie, and Sunday night had come much too quickly. Dean had to admit to himself that the past two days had been a lot of fun. Cas made him hot under the collar every time he looked at him. He made him nervous. Excited. And really fucking happy. He pulled into the convenience store on the corner, the Gas-n-Sip on the edge of town, to pick up a bottle of ketchup. Cas ate ketchup on everything. It was adorably annoying, and he wanted to kick himself for feeding into such a habit, but more than that, loved seeing Cas grin.  
  
“Be right back,” he smirked, getting a tired, soft grin from Cas. While every bit of Charming Acres felt a little off to him, he could feel it even more as he entered the brightly lit store.  
  
The kid at the counter gave him a wide-eyed, spooked look, then went back to looking at something on the counter. Dean tried to shake off the feeling of general heebie-jeebies he got and headed into an aisle. He found ketchup and went to the counter, noticing that the restroom was taped off. He sat the bottle on the counter and pulled his wallet out. “What happened to the bathroom?”  
  
Griffin Tate, as noted on his name tag, looked up at him with a haunted expression. “Duuuuude! You didn’t hear?”  
  
Dean glanced back around the store again before leveling the skittish kid with a look. “I’ve been busy the past few days.” More like he had been buried in bed with Cas with his cock buried inside him. He flushed at the mere thought of where he had been and just what he’d been doing for the past two days. “So...what happened?”  
  
“Mr. Stevens died in the bathroom! He came out of there holding his head and clutching his chest then he ran back into the bathroom and...POW! He went all Scanners! His heart exploded! He died!”  
  
“Mr. Stevens,” Dean clarified, the kid nodding adamantly. “And his heart...exploded?”  
  
“That’s what the coroner said. At least that’s what my grandma Sheila told me. She heard Dr. Mahoney talking about it this afternoon.”  
  
Dean furrowed his brow. “Your grandma,” Dean said flatly, not for the first time shocked at how news traveled like wildfire in this town.  
  
“Yeah! She’s at Sunset Fields and Dr. Mahoney got all mad today and said the coroner said Mr. Stevens heart was just...mush!”  
  
Dean tapped the keys in his hand against the palm of his other hand. A heart that turned into mush...just like Gary Frieling. “What did you say your grandma’s name is?”  
  
“Sheila,” Griffin said suspiciously. “Sheila Tate.”  
  
Dean nodded slowly. The name rang a bell. Gabe talked about the residents there all the time. He might know her. He may be able to find out a bit more.  
  
He paid for the ketchup and returned to his car, sinking into his driver’s seat with a sigh. Cas turned to him. “What is it?”  
  
Dean handed over the bottle of ketchup.  
  
“Thank you!”  
  
“Eh, in case Melanie is out or something. Figured I’d make sure you were set for breakfast.”  
  
Cas leaned over, kissing him. Even though Dean was quite a bit more familiar with Cas and his lips and kisses, it was still quite novel. He grinned, but it faded quickly.  
  
“What is it?” Cas asked quietly.  
  
“Just talked to the kid in there, Griffin. Some guy with the last name Stevens died in there yesterday.”  
  
Cas’ eyebrows lifted in surprise.  
  
“Yeah. His heart exploded.”  
  
Cas narrowed his eyes.  
  
“Yeah. Just like Gary’s. Something is so wrong with this town, Cas. We gotta figure out what’s goin’ on. There’s no way in hell I’m living here. And I wouldn’t let Sam and Gabe stay either. Not unless we can figure out why people are dying.”  
  
“Agreed. And why the ‘good’ mayor would cover it up,” Cas added.  
  
Dean grinned at Cas, relieved to have someone just as invested in getting to the bottom of what was wrong with Charming Acres. “Your first day of work might help. Griffin’s grandma is the one that told him the coroner used those exact words. Heart exploded. Said it turned into mush. His grandma Sheila is at Sunset Fields.”  
  
Cas nodded, understanding his mission. “I will find out more information.”  
  
They headed to Melanie’s but parked in front of Sam and Gabe’s house since Maggie now had two cars parked in front of Sue’s house, crowding into the front of Melanie’s.  
  
Cas knocked on the door. Melanie was there quickly, out of breath and rushing around to pack. “Hi! Come in!”  
  
They came inside, sitting their bags by the door.  
  
“I’m just finishing up my packing!” She called, heading into the kitchen, and quickly returning with the charging cord to her cell phone. “Thank you SO much for helping me out!”  
  
“No problem,” Dean grinned.  
  
“The guest room is all ready for you both and...” she stopped in front of them, smiling and putting her hands on her hips, “there’s food in the fridge. Wow.” She stared at them each in turn. “You two are...good. Like, super good! I’ve never seen two people’s auras combine like that before. You’ve really bonded!”  
  
Cas narrowed his eyes in thought, but Dean was either becoming one of the nuts in this town or every conversation he had outside of Sam and Gabe’s house was destined to make him lose his shit. He liked Melanie, so he opted to just friggin’ go with it. “Awesome,” he grinned.  
  
Melanie nodded, her eyes still reading them as her smile grew. “Aw. You two are in love!”  
  
Dean shut his eyes in mortification before it occurred to him to play it off as nothing. Luckily, Cas was a little quicker.  
  
“This is still pretty new, Melanie.”  
  
“Sorry,” she winced. “I’ll keep my readings to myself. But...you both look great.”  
  
When Dean had the nerve to glance at Cas, he was surprised to see him blushing and making himself busy on his phone. Well, either that hit close to home or he thought she was a nut job.   
  
“My cat, Lily, is shy but friendly once she gets to know you. She’s hiding under my bed right now. The litter box is in the laundry room and come on into the kitchen, I’ll show you what she eats.”  
  
They followed her into the small kitchen, Dean catching sight of movement outside her back door just before someone knocked on it.  
  
Melanie handed Cas a can of cat food and went to open the door. “Hi, Zoe!”  
  
“Hi! Are they here?”  
  
Melanie stepped back, letting Zoe inside. She waved at them, wearing a team sweat suit of red, white, and blue. “Hi! I have competition this week and I was wondering, since you’re taking care of Lily, if you could take care of Nicky too?”  
  
Dean and Cas both quirked their heads.   
  
Dean said something he never thought he’d say. “Nicky the mermaid?”  
  
“Yeah!” Zoe nodded, coming closer. “You just have to keep the ladder out of the pool, bring her fresh flowers once a day, and she LOVES goldfish crackers.”  
  
Dean bit his tongue, smiling despite himself. “Absolutely.”  
  
“But don’t take any flowers from the Carrigans. They get super mad if you mess with their flowers.”  
  
“Got it,” Dean grinned.  
  
“Thanks!”  
  
“Good luck at your meet,” Cas offered, obviously amused with their conversation.  
  
“Thanks. I’ll probably win. My coach says no one in my age group trains harder than me.”  
  
They waved as she left, and Melanie closed the door with a grin. “You two really are the cutest.”  
  
“Shut up,” Dean chuckled.  
  
She picked up a bag and headed into the living room, picking up her suitcase as they followed her. “I’m gonna stop and see Grandma before I leave town. I’ll be home late Friday evening.”  
  
“See you then. Call if you need anything,” Cas said.  
  
“Same!” Melanie went out the door and to her car in a rush. Cas closed the door and the pair looked around themselves curiously.  
  
“Now what?” Dean asked.  
  
“Now...” Cas quirked a truly devilish grin, “now we play house for a few days.”  
  
Dean’s brows jumped and he quirked his own naughty grin. “Awesome!”  
  
They took their bags upstairs, checking out the guest room and bathroom. Cas went into Melanie’s room, confirming there was indeed a black and gray cat under the bed.  
  
“Let’s go see what Sam and Gabe are up to,” Dean offered, needing some vertical activity after all their horizontal doings the past two days.  
  
“I bet they have ice cream,” Cas said, following him down the steps.  
  
“I bet they do.” Outside, Dean took Cas’ hand and the pair walked next door, finding Sam, Gabe, Fletcher, Maddie, and Bobby sitting on the front porch.  
  
“Look who came up for air!” Gabe greeted.  
  
“Gabe,” Sam and Cas scolded. Dean gave Gabe the finger behind Cas’ back so the kids wouldn’t see it, making him nod with a chuckle.  
  
“Hi!” Maddie said from the top step, bowl of ice cream on her knees.  
  
“Hi,” Dean and Cas back to her.  
  
Fletcher, sitting next to her, waved, his mouth was full, but his bowl was almost empty.  
  
“Hey, buddy,” Dean said, ruffling his curly hair as he passed him. “How’s it goin’, Bobby?”  
  
Bobby, sitting in the chair with an empty bowl by his foot and a beer in his hand, gave him a nod. “Jus’ catchin’ up with the crew.”  
  
“Any word on Kat?” Cas asked quietly.  
  
Gabe, Sam, and Bobby’s faces took on a guarded look. Maddie, who never missed anything, turned to look up at them. “Kat’s mommy is sick now too.”  
  
Dean and Cas, surprised, turned back to the adults expectantly. Bobby leaned forward, talking quietly. “I talked to Olivia an hour or so ago. She said Naoki is in the hospital with similar ailments as Kat.”  
  
Dean nodded, not wanting to prolong the conversation and upset the neighbor kids. When their ice cream bowls were empty and the pair had gone to Maddie’s house to play, Dean and Cas took their places on the porch at the top of the steps with bowls of ice cream for themselves.  
  
“I heard about the guy that died at the Gas-n-Sip,” Dean said.  
  
Bobby nodded. “Carl Stevens. He owned the construction company that Don Stark uses.”  
  
“Really?” Dean said flatly.  
  
Cas, eyes narrowed, said, “So, another person associated with the Starks. Interesting.”  
  
“Yeah, and according to the kid at the store, Carl’s heart exploded.”  
  
“What?” Sam exclaimed. “Like Gary’s?”  
  
“The kid has a grandma at Sunset Fields. Sheila Tate.”  
  
Gabe perked up even more. “My Sheila? Griffin told you this?”  
  
Dean nodded, hoping Gabe knew this Sheila. “Spouted it like a fountain. Said his grandma overheard Dr. mmm...something Irish -”  
  
“Mahoney!” Gabe supplied, leaning forward.  
  
“That’s it! Doc Mahoney and the coroner were talking about it. Said his heart was, and I quote, like mush.”  
  
“What the hell?” Gabe said faintly, sitting back.  
  
“Is Sheila a reliable source?” Cas asked.  
  
Gabe tipped his head noncommittally. “She gets pretty confused. Mixes people up. But it’s not like her to talk about people like that. But none of the residents really like Dr. Mahoney.”  
  
“Why?” Cas asked.  
  
Gabe shrugged. “His bedside manner seems alright, but I don’t really know him at all.”  
  
“Why would the coroner talk to Mahoney about that?” Sam asked suspiciously.  
  
“There aren’t many doctors in this town. Perhaps he was seeking some medical advice,” Cas suggested. “I’m sure I will meet the doctor tomorrow.”  
  
“That’s right,” Sam nodded. “You start work tomorrow.”  
  
“At Sunset Fields?” Bobby asked, Cas nodding back. “Well, take good care of my buddy Fred in there. He was like a dad to me.”  
  
“Fred Jones?” Gabe asked.  
  
Bobby nodded.  
  
“Do you know every resident in there?” Dean asked, chuckling.  
  
“Pretty much”, Gabe admitted. “Fred’s real quiet. He likes playing cards on good days. I thought I saw you a few times in there, Bobby, but I wasn’t sure it was you.”  
  
“I go almost every day. We play cards, like you said, on his good days. Watch TV on his quieter days. And I don’t much like that Mahoney either. He don’t seem too motivated to do much for the residents.”  
  
Dean could tell Cas didn’t like the sound of this. He reached over, giving his knee a squeeze. Cas smiled faintly, but he could see that Cas was now on even more of a mission than before.  
  
“Anything new on Gary?” Dean asked, hoping to change the subject.  
  
“No,” Sam sighed. “Deb says she’s getting total silence from the police department now.”  
  
With Gabe and Cas focused on the retirement home, Sam worrying about the neighbor kids, and he and Bobby sure the Starks were picking off Charming Acre citizens, it was no surprise that they all sat quietly in their own thoughts as the sun set on Lily Dale Lane.  
  
  
***************************************************  
  
  
Castiel’s first day of work was a lot to take in. The day began with a 7am change of shift unit meeting where he was introduced to some of the staff and listened to a briefing of how the residents faired the past night. He went with the other RN to hand out meds to all the residents. After that, he spent several hours in a visitor’s lounge reviewing charts to get to know his new charges. Fred Jones sat quietly by his side watching cartoons, saying and interacting very little. Nonetheless, Castiel enjoyed his quiet presence.  
  
After a lunch spent pouring over procedure manuals, he rejoined the nurse’s station to find Dr. Mahoney on one of the computers. Castiel was introduced, the doctor giving him a cursory nod before going back to inputting data. Castiel spotted the chart of Mrs. Golden on the screen.  
  
“Is Mrs. Golden well?” Castiel asked, seeing the doctor remove a med from her list.  
  
“Yep. Well, she’s getting confused. But that’s normal at her age,” Mahoney said in a clipped tone, exiting out of the document quickly.  
  
“Do I need to notify her granddaughter of any changes?” Castiel asked, watching the doctor suspiciously as he stood from the chair and headed out of the square of space framed by a counter which nurses could see over to talk to residents or other staff.  
  
“If you needed to notify her, I would have told you. She’s fine,” he said curtly, heading down the hall without looking back.  
  
Castiel frowned. No wonder the residents did not care for him. From what he had ascertained so far, the aides, nurses, and other staff were quite kind to the residents. The doctor’s curt manner must feel abrasive in comparison.   
  
Castiel logged into the same computer and finished the few notes he needed to write for the day, then called the other RN in the facility to have her check them. By the time he was finished, the doctor was long gone. He went into Mrs. Golden’s room to check on her himself.  
  
“Hello, Goldy,” he said softly. “I’m Cas, the new nurse.”  
  
Goldy, sitting in a lovely blue recliner by her window lifted her head, looking lethargic and slightly fretful.  
  
He rushed to her side, assessing her quickly as he took her pulse. She did not appear to be having a stroke or seizure, but certainly did not seem fit to be sitting in a chair. He hit the call button and pulled his cell phone from his pocket, alerting staff that there was a medical emergency.  
  
“Goldy?” Cas said as calmly as he could manage. “Goldy, I’m going to help you lay in bed, alright? You seem a little tired.”  
  
“That man,” Goldy muttered, her head lolling to the side. Just as Cas got her upright, an aide came rushing in to help him get her into bed.  
  
He worked quickly to assess her more thoroughly as the aide helped her get situated comfortably.  
  
“Have you ever seen her like this?” Castiel asked quickly.  
  
The man shook his head no, looking worried. “She gets confused sometimes. The past two weeks, anyway.”  
  
“Goldy,” Cas said more firmly, taking her hand and getting eye contact, “what’s going on?”  
  
Goldy’s hands flailed slightly as her mouth gaped for words, eyes wide and unfocused.  
  
“Call an ambulance, she needs -”  
  
Goldy gripped his hand tight as the aide ran from the room. “Mahoney!” She gasped.  
  
“What did he do?” Cas asked, truly concerned and wanting to understand what was happening.  
  
“Gave me something!” She gasped again.  
  
Cas took her pulse. It had been sluggish when he first took it, but now it was racing and irregular. “What did he give you?” Cas asked desperately.  
  
“Shot!” She gasped, eyes wide. “He’s -”  
  
Castiel searched her frightened face, smiling the smile of a man who could provide her with nothing more in that moment than the encouragement of being someone who cared about her.  
  
“Goldy?” He said softly, brushing her long, dark hair away from her pale face. “Relax and breathe for me. Slow and steady.”  
  
The aide came back into the room with a haunted look. “They’ll be here in ten minutes,” he said quietly.  
  
“Goldy, I’m going to call Melanie, alright?”  
  
Goldy blinked a few times, the locked-up look of terror passing into a weary, dull look in her eyes. Her grip weakened in his hand and he looked up as more aides and the other RN came into the room.  
  
Her eyes tracked slowly over to Castiel’s with a look he had seen too many times in his life. She was fading.  
  
“I’m going to call Melanie to come home to see you. Did you know I’m house sitting for her? She has a very nice cat named Lily.” He stroked her hair, smiling at the weak smile she gave him.  
  
“Melanie,” she whispered.  
  
“I’ll call her right away,” he assured her.  
  
  
*******************************************  
  
  
Dean looked up from The Mirror, Charming Acres’ newspaper, as Cas came in the door. He had spent the day becoming best buds with Lily, who was now snuggled against his thigh on Melanie’s couch. He smiled at the sight of Cas in scrubs, reminding himself that they really needed to play doctor soon. “Hey there, handsome! How was your first day?”  
  
Cas looked up at him slowly, his blue eyes full of sadness. “Terrible.”  
  
Dean got up, sending Lily running. Worry crept into his chest at how defeated Cas looked, standing there with slumped shoulders and sorrow etched into his brow. “Is the place that bad? Don’t work there if it’s terrible!” He hugged Cas to him, wanting to erase anything that made him sad. Cas laid his head heavily on Dean’s shoulder, hugging him back. Dean rubbed a hand up and down his back slowly. “I’m sorry you had such a bad day. I have dinner in the oven. Melanie left us some -”  
  
Cas pulled away, looking even more miserable. He paced away from him. “Melanie is on her way home.”  
  
“She is?” Dean said, his confusion growing.  
  
Cas’ eyes watered. “Goldy died today.”  
  
“Oh, Cas,” Dean whispered, shocked. “Were you...”  
  
Cas nodded, wiping a tear away. “I was with her. It was...” his sadness flushed into anger. “It didn’t make sense. Like everything in this fucking town!”  
  
Dean hugged him again. Wishing he could do something. Make sense of all the strange things they seemed surrounded by. Why was this town so strange? He was glad he had not blurted out his disgust with Carl Stevens obituary, which claimed he died from heart issues. Just like Gary. He hugged Cas tighter. “I’m gonna figure out what the hell’s wrong with this town, Cas. I promise.”  
  



	10. Three Funerals and a Tea Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions are mounting.
> 
> So are the mysteries.
> 
> I just wanted to take a moment to thank all of you for reading this crazy tale, for throwing all your ideas out there, and for bringing a smile to my face! You guys are amazing<3

Chapter 10: Three Funerals and a Tea Party  
  
  
  
“Tea time at 10:00,” Gabe said under his breath, passing Cas with a wink as he toiled away with his med cart. His brother had been working at Sunset Fields for a week now, but it was still strange, and fun, to see him working with the residents he couldn’t help but love.  
  
“Tea time?” Cas asked, looking up in confusion.  
  
“Marion’s room,” Gabe nodded, walking backward to reassure him with a smile. “10:00.”  
  
Cas narrowed his eyes and looked at his watch. Gabe moved on, heading to the next room to repair a bed that he had already repaired once before. He stopped in the doorway as a police officer stepped out of Goldy’s old room across the hall.  
  
The pair stared at each other for a full second before the cop smiled. “Hiya.”  
  
“Hi,” Gabe stammered. “Can I...help you?”  
  
“No,” she smiled more genuinely. “Well, maybe.” She stepped toward him; Cas frozen in his task as he watched them. “Did you know Mrs. Golden?”  
  
“I did,” Gabe said quietly, turning toward her more fully. “That why you’re here? Something’s going on, isn’t it?”  
  
She held her hand out, looking more sedate now. “Donna Hanscum. And you are?”  
  
“Gabe,” he said, shaking her surprisingly strong hand. “Gabriel Winchester. Head of maintenance and housekeeping.”  
  
“Well, nice to meet you, Gabriel.”  
  
Gabe couldn’t help but smile at her warm eyes and, frankly, adorable northern accent.  
  
“And how would you describe Mrs. Golden?”  
  
“Uh...” he shrugged, smiling at a memory of her. “Sweet. Funny. She loved sugar packets. She used to take them from the dining hall, so I started bringing her candy - ” Gabe’s head jerked up, looking at the officer with wide eyes. “She didn’t...die from too much candy, did she? I didn’t bring it that often! Like two or three times a week! Maybe four.”  
  
Donna smiled harder, chuckling. “No. Don’t think a sweet tooth was her problem.”  
  
Gabe relaxed, wiping off the sudden sweat that had sprung to his forehead. “I really liked her. She was friends with me and a few of the other ladies here.”  
  
Donna nodded. “Sounds like a swell lady. Would ya describe her as combative or confused at times?”  
  
Gabe frowned. “No! Well...I guess she did get confused sometimes. Just recently though. She got really upset in the dining hall one morning last week at breakfast. Said I stole something. But I swear I would never steal anything! Not from her. Or anyone!”  
  
Gabe frowned in consternation, spotting Wayne Whittaker marching their way with a stern look on his face.  
  
“Did ya ever see her hit the staff or other residents?” Donna asked quickly.  
  
“No! Never! She was...a lady, ya know? Kinda proper.”  
  
“Can I help you?” Wayne asked, lips pursing.  
  
The cop’s face lit up into a smile. “Well, hello there. You must be the head cheese ‘round here. With the fancy suit and all.”  
  
“I am the administrator,” Wayne said curtly, standing his straightest, which still was not as tall as Donna.  
  
“Well, nice ta meet ya,” she continued to hold her hand out until Wayne clasped his own hands behind his back.  
  
“You cannot question my residents or staff!” He snapped in a harsh whisper.  
  
She grinned, something akin to predatory, with her neat white teeth. Her extended hand pointed to the badge on her uniform. “Says ‘Sheriff’ on this badge, Mr. Whittaker. So, I think I can. And will.”  
  
Wayne brimmed with anger, barely masked with politeness. He spun on his heel and marched back down the hall.  
  
“He’s...” Gabe trailed off, not sure what to say for his boss.  
  
“Kinda grouchy, I’d say,” the sheriff (the FREAKING sheriff) said, her real grin returning. Gabe glanced to Cas for help, raising his eyebrow in the universal signal for come-fucking-help-me.  
  
Cas continued to stare at the pair.  
  
Damn his brother and his inability to read people!  
  
“So, you were sayin’?” Sheriff Hanscum went on.  
  
“I...I’m just the janitor. You should talk to this guy,” he pointed at Cas. “He’s the nurse.”  
  
Cas’ mouth had been slightly ajar, and he snapped it shut, offering the cop his hand. “I’m Castiel Novak, the RN on duty.”

Donna’s face lit up. “Well now, just the man I’m looking for.”  
  
“Ya don’t hear that from too many chicks, do ya now, Cassie?” Gabe laughed nervously.  
  
The sheriff gave Cas a quirking brow as his face darkened.  
  
“Please excuse my brother,” Cas said stiffly. “He struggles to manage adult conversations.”  
  
Donna grinned back at Gabe, making him gulp. “Cops make ya nervous?” She asked understandingly.  
  
“He struggles in general,” Cas quipped, making Gabe roll his eyes.  
  
“So, you twos are brothers?” She asked, looking interested.  
  
“We are,” Cas said, as if HE were difficult to bear.  
  
Gabe snorted.  
  
“Can’t say I see the resemblance,” she said, looking between the two.  
  
Gabe glowered at his brother for turning this situation even more awkward, to which Cas glowered back for whatever reason.  
  
“Oh, yeah. There it is. I see it now,” she grinned, nodding.  
  
Cas grinned kindly at her, locking the med drawer of the cart in front of him. “What can I help you with, Sheriff?”  
  
“What can you tell me about Mrs. Golden?”  
  
Cas sighed, staring at the blank computer in front of him. “I can tell you that I find her records puzzling. Dr. Mahoney began prescribing Mrs. Golden an anticholinergic medication several weeks ago.”  
  
“Uh huh,” Donna frowned, sliding her hands into her pockets. “And what is that now?”  
  
“Anticholinergic medications block the effect of acetylcholine, an important brain chemical and neurotransmitter that becomes less plentiful as you age.”  
  
“I see,” she said, quite interested.  
  
“These medications have an impact on brain cells by occupying its receptor molecules and can help people gain relief from symptoms of insomnia, irritable bowel syndrome, depression, and are sometimes used with Parkinson’s patients.”  
  
“Okie dokie,” Donna nodded, pulling out a notepad to write something down.  
  
“It means she was taking a medication that often causes confusion as a side effect.”  
  
Donna nodded, writing quickly.  
  
Gabe was a little shocked with this information, staring at his brother with pride. He felt completely unsettled by the deaths of his new friends. He was no medical expert, but something seemed wrong and Cas seemed to have at least found a clue.  
  
“Did Mrs. Golden have Parkinson’s?” She asked.  
  
“No. She was also not incontinent, and did not have a history of irritable bowel, depression, or even insomnia, which is what these types of medications are typically used for.” He waited until she met his eyes again. “She was taking it for no known listed medical reason. While I am no doctor, it is my responsibility to understand the medications the patients under my care are taking. I hope you understand my concern.”  
  
“What exactly was this medication called?” Donna asked slowly.  
  
“Tolteridine,” Cas said, the pair staring as if even more were being said than what Gabe could follow.  
  
“That’s very helpful, Mr. Novak,” she nodded. “I think I’m gonna need you to write that down for me...Mr. Novak. And a number I can reach you at.” She handed him the notepad and he wrote it down, handing it back.  
  
“And did you ever witness her being combative or confused?” She asked.  
  
Cas shook his head no. “She died my first day working here.”  
  
Donna nodded, tucking the notepad in her pocket. “I’ll be in touch.” She gave the brothers a nod, then headed down the hall as Wayne came around the corner with Chip Harrington by his side. All three stopped where they met at the end of the hall, Gabe and Cas staring at all of them. Chip grinned broadly, with a much colder look in his eyes. Donna grinned at both of them, taking them on with little more than a nod and shrug.  
  
“I like her,” Gabe stated.  
  
“Me too,” Cas said.  
  
“She asks a lot of questions,” Gabe noted, looking at his brother. “Did you call the cops?”  
  
“Better,” Cas quirked a grin, “I encouraged Melanie to demand an autopsy. And the coroner denied it, but it was re-instated when the sheriff got an anonymous tip that something was fishy with Goldy’s meds.”  
  
Gabe grinned at his brother. “Why, brother, I may never have been prouder of you than I am in this moment.”  
  
Cas merely nodded, still staring at the end of the hall as Wayne, Chip, and Sheriff Hanscum disappeared around the corner. He turned to Gabe with a serious stare. “It’s Mahoney. I think his incompetence killed Goldy. It makes me wonder about the other residents who have died here.”  
  
“So, Mahoney just...sucks?”  
  
Cas shrugged, starting to push his med cart closer to the next room. “All I know is, he gave Goldy a medication she did not appear to need, falsified statements in her chart, and now she is dead. AND she said Mahoney gave her a shot. There are no injections on her chart, Gabriel. The man is a danger to these people and needs removed.”  
  
“Well damn. Are you sure?”  
  
Cas nodded sedately.  
  
“You think Mahoney killed her?” Gabe asked, still stunned to hear his brother’s opinion on the situation.  
  
“I as much as handed the sheriff the evidence she needs. Now we’ll see what she does with it. Whether it’s incompetence or purposeful, remains to be seen.”  
  
Cas went back to work, unlocking the drawer in front of him and opened a pill packet. 

“Don’t forget, 10:00. Tea with Marion. Make some time.” 

Cas nodded and Gabe left him to his work. He felt rattled. How could someone kill Goldy? How evil did you have to be to not admit to your own incompetence and hurt people, kill people, because you don’t know what you are doing?! He felt a new sense of protection for the residents. And all of them were under Mahoney’s care.   


**************************

Castiel came to find that he did not like, nor trust, Dr. Mahoney. In the week he’d been employed at Sunset Fields, he made it a point to check every resident’s chart for Tolteridine. There were four more residents taking this particular medication, which in high doses or with the right person, caused serious confusion and even hallucinations. He studied Fred Jones, one of the four on Tolteridine, as he sat at the next table in the day room, staring blankly at the television.   
  
“I see you’re makin’ friends.”  
  
Cas looked up, grinning as Bobby walked into the room. “You have no idea.”  
  
“How’s my buddy? Hey there, Fred.”  
  
“Fred,” Cas said warmly, reaching over to touch the man’s forearm. “Your friend Bobby is here.”  
  
Fred blinked into a hazy alertness. “Bobby,” he said softly. “He’s a good boy, my Bobby.”  
  
Cas grinned up at Bobby. “I don’t know...he’s a bit of a trouble-maker,” he teased.  
  
Fred’s eyes became even more alert as he grinned and looked up at Bobby. “Every town needs a bit of trouble. And every town would be so lucky to have a Bobby Singer.”  
  
Cas’ heart melted, and Bobby’s too by the way his jaw firmed, and his eyes softened.  
  
“Now, you jus’ keep that poetic nonsense to yourself, Fred,” Bobby groused, earning a proud grin from Fred.  
  
“I was just heading out,” Cas said, standing. He wished he could ask Bobby more about, well, everything. But the man was a bit hit and miss when it came to talking about their town. “See you later, Mr. Jones. Bobby.”  
  
Fred waved as Bobby took his seat. Cas returned the laptop to the nurse’s station and told the unit clerk he was taking his break. He headed down the hall, surprised when Sam came around the corner looking extremely lost and hesitant.  
  
“Sam?”  
  
“Cas!” Sam’s face lit up and his steps quickened until they met in the middle of the hall. “Gabe asked me to come meet one of his silver swans. He was so sad when Goldy died, and so close to Imelda, I just wanted to support him, and he wants me to meet a couple people before anything happens to them.” Sam glanced around nervously, “Not that anything is going to happen to them.”  
  
Cas chuckled, turning Sam, and joining him as they walked back the way he had come. “We are having tea with Marion and Sheila. Your husband has become quite attached to these two ladies. And Fred Jones, but Bobby is already visiting him, and I don’t think either of them would care to come to tea.”  
  
“Am I allowed to be in here?” Sam whispered.  
  
“Of course!” Cas patted his shoulder, stopping in front of Marion’s room. “You were invited by a resident. Don’t forget, Sam, this is not a hospital. This is their home. Think of it as...a cruise ship that never leaves port.”  
  
Sam’s shoulders relaxed. “Right.”  
  
Cas rapped his knuckles on Marion’s door, pushing it open. “Marion, it’s Cas and Sam.”  
  
“Come on in,” Gabe called.  
  
Sam’s jaw dropped, as Cas had fully suspected it would. Marion’s room was by far the most cluttered of all the resident’s rooms. She had a table and chairs by the window. The window sill and the four tall shelves lining the walls held an assortment of figurines, plants, trinkets, photos, and odd items. The walls were covered with paintings and pictures. Little bird houses hung from the ceiling in every corner, and besides the table set, there was a recliner across from a TV, and her bed, and nightstand in the corner. The entire room reminded Cas of the inside of a camper turned into a gift shop. Little fountains bubbled and wind chimes tinkled lightly in front of her intake vent. When you turned the lights off, there were night lights and things that glowed so much he had no idea how she slept. Her daughter was one of the owners of Good Graces Cafe and often brought her food and fun things that made Marion giggle. She was a sweet woman and she adored Gabe.  
  
“All that’s missing is a couple dozen cats,” Sam said under his breath.  
  
Cas whacked Sam’s shoulder.   
  
“Sorry,” Sam said. “I was up all night, researching. We have to figure out what’s going on around here. Gabe said that whack-a-doo, Wayne Whittaker, thinks it was flying saucers, but this is serious! People are dying! I have dug through hours’ worth of the Stark’s business transactions. It’s...daunting.”  
  
Cas clapped him on the shoulder. “Sounds like you need a time-out and a cup of tea.”  
  
Gabe was sitting at the table with Sheila, and Cas could hear Marion humming in her bathroom and talking to herself.  
  
“It looks like Sedona, Arizona, crapped in here,” Sam said, still horrified at the clutter.  
  
Gabe gave him a surprised look and Sam apologized again. He did look exhausted.  
  
“Richie, who is that?” Sheila asked as Gabe smiled up at Sam.  
  
Gabe stood up, hugging and kissing Sam on the cheek. “Thanks for coming.”  
  
“Yeah,” Sam assured him, grinning down at Sheila. “Hi!”  
  
“Sheila, this is Sam, my husband.”  
  
“Hello, Sam,” she smiled adoringly at him.   
  
“Have a seat,” Gabe said, holding a hand out. Sam folded himself into the tight spot.  
  
Cas pulled his lab coat off with a tired sigh, tossing it on the foot of Marion’s bed.  
  
“Oh, Charles,” Sheila beamed.   
  
“Hello, Sheila,” Cas grinned, used to her calling him Charles.  
  
“That’s not Charles,” Gabe corrected sweetly. “I’m Gabe and this is my brother Cas, remember?”  
  
“Oh...my mind gets fuzzy sometimes,” she admitted. “Oh, Charles. You always were so beautiful. I’m sorry I left you penniless. You always were such a bounder. I hope you understand I had to hide my diamonds.”  
  
Gabe and Cas exchanged a look. Some days Sheila could remember their right names, but this must not be one of those days.  
  
“I’m sure you did your best,” Cas assured her, patting her hand.  
  
Marion came out of the bathroom, grinning at the crowd in her room. Castiel watched her walk with concentration toward the table. “Your rehab is going very well, Marion. You are walking better everyday.”

“Thank you!” She beamed, lightly using the furniture to cross the room and arrive at the table gracefully. “Oh, this is wonderful! The tea is hot and my daughter brought cookies!”

Sam studied the box of cookies on the table. The sugar cookies had icing words on them such as, hope, love, peace, serenity, and goodness.  
  
“Her daughter is one of the owners at Good Graces.”  
  
Cas got a rueful smile at that. “Dean and I ate there, last weekend.”  
  
Sam’s face dropped to a picture of stunned shock. “My brother, Dean, ate there?”  
  
Cas chuckled. “I believe he ordered ‘pig’ and did threaten to punch the waiter in the face if he ‘affirmated me’.”  
  
Gabe laughed uproariously as Sam’s shock gave way only partially to a grin of amusement.   
  
“It’s a lovely cafe,” Cas assured Marion, who only watched on in pure enjoyment.  
  
“He ordered pig?” Gabe laughed again, wiping tears from his face. “What a dick! Oh! Sorry ladies!”  
  
Sam whacked his arm, smiling at Sheila and Marion apologetically.  
  
“It’s so nice to meet you, Sam,” Marion grinned.  
  
“You too, Marion. Thank you for inviting me to tea.”  
  
“Of course!” She busied herself pouring cups of tea and plates of cookies. “It’s so nice to have young gentlemen here with us, isn’t it Sheila?”  
  
“Yes,” Sheila smiled, leaning toward Marion. “I don’t know if it’s wise to have Richie and Charles here at the same time. Richie always was quite angry about my marrying Charles.”  
  
Gabe leaned over to Sam, explaining their friend’s meaning. “Charles,” Gabe pointed at Cas, was Sheila’s third husband. Richie,” he pointed at himself, “was her second.”  
  
“I see,” Sam chuckled. “And how did Dean get out of this little party?”  
  
“He went to visit Bobby. They’re coming up with ‘a plan’.”  
  
“Bobby is down the hall with Fred,” Cas said, frowning.  
  
Gabe smirked. “Let’s be sure to let him know the jig is up.”  
  
“Oh!” Marion said excitedly, “Is it a plan to defeat the leprechaun? He is such a dastardly toad.”  
  
Sam’s brows raised in surprise.  
  
“Marion says Wayne Whittaker is a leprechaun,” Gabe added, taking a fragile looking cup of tea from Marion.  
  
“He is!” She insisted. “Sprites, fairies, spriggans, little folk. They go by many names.” She pointed at several figurines tucked amongst plants as she listed more. “Gnomes, goblins, trolls.”  
  
“And Wayne is a leprechaun?” Sam asked.  
  
“Hm? Mm!” Marion nodded.  
  
“Fairies are real?” Sam said disbelievingly.  
  
“They are all around us,” Marion declared, looking around her room as if she sat in a garden dancing full of fairies.  
  
“We can’t see them,” Gabe supplied, “but apparently they’re everywhere.”  
  
“Where?” Sam chuckled.  
  
“Oh, only those that have been to their realm can see them. Their realm is next door,” Marion added.   
  
“Like an alternate dimension?” Sam asked, grinning.  
  
“Mm, another reality, yes!” Marion nodded eagerly. “But leprechauns are known for being nasty creatures. I tried leaving him cream. Fairies like cream. But it didn’t help at all!”  
  
“Right,” Sam said.  
  
Cas shared a grin with him before pulling his phone out, wondering just where Dean was, texting him as much.  
  
“So, let’s say fairies are real,” Gabe said, grinning. “How can we defeat him?”  
  
“They’re very tricky! Sneaky too! But being of the fairy realm, there are tricks to defeat him.”  
  
Castiel shook his head. It seemed wrong to egg her on in this line of thought. “Mr. Whittaker is not the friendliest man, but he’s definitely a man.”  
  
Marion shook her head sadly. “He’s trying to expand his kingdom. It’s all about gaining treasure, with leprechauns.”  
  
Castiel couldn’t imagine what Wayne had done to lead Marion to these assumptions, but he listened to her, nonetheless. His phone buzzed and he opened a text from Dean.  
  
Dean: I’m still at the hospital visiting Naoki and Kat. Mayor Douchebag is visiting them too. Gonna see if the nurse can tell me anything.  
  
Cas: That is odd.  
  
Dean: I’ll fill you in later.  
  
Cas put his phone away, taking the last of the tea cups being passed out. “Thank you, Marion.”  
  
“Uh huh!” She beamed.  
  
“And what sort of things trick leprechauns?” Sam asked, entertained with her at this point. Castiel was entertained at the sight of Sam sipping tea from the dainty cup in his huge hands.  
  
“Well,” she grinned, “iron burns them. Oh! And if you spill sugar. Or salt. No matter how mighty, they must stoop over to count each grain.”  
  
“He is a bad man,” Sheila said, sipping her tea. “He stole my diamonds.”  
  
All three men arched a brow at that.   
  
“Wayne?” Gabe clarified.  
  
Sheila nodded. “Richie, you were always such a dear. Could you get them back for me?”  
  
“Uh, sure!” Gabe nodded. “I’ll get right on it.”  
  
“I sure do miss Goldy,” Marion said sadly, giving her friend Sheila a sad smile.  
  
Gabe nodded and Sam reached over to rub his back gently.  
  
“And Imelda,” Marion smiled fondly.  
  
Gabe frowned suddenly. “Didn’t Imelda say someone stole diamonds from her too?”  
  
“She did!” Marion said with concern. “We are all being robbed! It’s that leprechaun! They aren’t all bad, but that Whittaker is the worst I’ve ever seen!”  
  
Castiel had laughed off Marion’s thoughts of Wayne Whittaker until just this very moment. Had Sheila not said something about Mahoney, he never would have suspected something more untoward was happening with Goldy. It was, therefore, a possibility that Wayne was up to something. He would have to check into the building’s administrator with a bit more focus. With all he had set into motion yesterday, he had no doubt that he would soon get an opportunity to be called into the administrator’s office. It was not common, really, to report doctors to the Board of Physicians after so short an employment. And if anyone connected the dots on him being the one to insist upon an autopsy...well, this might be a very short employ indeed.  
  
When tea was over, they all thanked the two women, especially Marion. The three of them walked until they were outside Sunset Fields on the wide patio by the front door.  
  
Cas was the first to address the mood in the group. “I need to get back to work, but I believe we should figure out if Wayne Whittaker is involved somehow.”  
  
“The leprechaun?” Sam chuckled. “Were you drinking the same tea I was?”  
  
Cas gave Sam a scolding smirk. “They might be losing their memory, but these residents see Mahoney and Wayne more than anyone.”  
  
“Seems kinda crazy,” Gabe frowned.  
  
“Well, then it fits,” Cas insisted. “Crazy is exactly what I’ve observed since arriving to this town.”  
  
Sam relented with a shrug and a nod. “Alright. I’ll bite. So...I guess I’ll look into Wayne too.”  
  
Gabe crossed his arms over his chest. “Make Dean do it. You’re wading around in enough weird right now. All he does lately is sit on the front porch.”  
  
Sam chuckled, kissing him. “Alright. See you at dinner.” He grinned and waved at Cas as he turned for home.  
  
Cas sighed as he looked at the door to Sunset Fields, his hands sinking low into his pockets with the weight of all the town’s oddities on his shoulders. “I’m not likely to be employed here much longer.”  
  
Gabe looked up at him with some surprise. “You think Wayne’s gonna fire you?”  
  
“Most likely. I seem to have stirred up a decent investigation. Dean texted to tell me he was at the hospital visiting the Himuras. Then Sheriff Hanscum texted me. She wants me to come down to the station and ‘talk’.”  
  
“Jeez, Cassie!”  
  
Cas gave his little big brother a resigned look. “It seems Hanscum is new to town and might not be as blinded by the town’s motto as the others.”  
  
“Good.” Gabe looked at the front doors with a new determination set in his shoulders. “Nobody is fucking with these residents on my watch.”  
  
“Indeed,” Cas agreed. They went back inside, both going their separate ways.  
  
  
*******************************************************

Dean slid into the booth at Harrington’s, waving at Sonny, who nodded back. He had been to the diner several times now, hating how much he loved it. The burgers were unremarkable, really, but the fries were good. And the milkshake were obnoxiously fantastic. 

After being cooped up at the hospital all day, he craned his head back and forth and stretched his legs out until his boots bumped into the seat across from him.

“Rough day?” Sonny asked, arriving at the table with her head cocking to the side enough to make her ponytail swing.

“Yeah,” Dean admitted, sighing.

“I’ll be back around with your shake. Anyone joining you?”

“Cas’ll be here in a minute.”

“Chocolate? Or feeling adventurous?”

Dean stared at her, biting his lip in thought. He really should try another flavor, but it kinda pissed him off how much he already liked the chocolate. His luck, he’d like them all and milkshakes from anywhere else would be ruined for him. As of now, only the chocolate was better than - . The door to Harrington’s opened, Cas coming in with a furrowed brow. Nothing was better than that sex. Still... “Just the chocolate,” he relented.

She nodded, whirling away to wait on another table.

Cas saw him and headed for the booth, sliding in across from him.

“Hi,” Dean grinned, taking in Cas’ furrowed brow and intense eyes, reminding him of how intense he looked during sex, and oh, great, now a dreamy little sex memory curled his thoughts, made him blush and surely broadcasted his train of thought easily enough.

Cas’ furrowed brow smoothed momentarily, a little grin ghosting quickly over his lips. “Hello, Dean.”

He giggled, cuz fuck yeah. He pulled his feet back, sitting up better. 

Cas sighed, Sonny appearing again. “Hi, Castiel!”

“Hello, Sonny.”

Dean grinned down at the table, noting none of the warm, lush tones he was accustomed to hearing when it was ‘Hello, Dean’.

“Strawberry?” She asked.

“Please.”

She left, both of them settling in with warm glances exchanged between the two.

“Did your meeting go well?” Dean asked. All he knew was Cas texted him saying he had a meeting after work. He also noted Cas had changed clothes, now in jeans and a Henley.

Cas glanced over his shoulder and around them on all sides as he leaned forward. “It went well.”

Dean grinned. “So Whittaker didn’t fire you?”

“Not yet. But my meeting was not with him.” He glanced around again, leaning in closer, Dean leaning in as well. “My meeting was with the new sheriff. It was very...interesting.”

Dean sat back, studying his boyfriend. He looked excited. Energized. “What happened? Why did that happen? The call? How did she know it was you?”

Very quietly, Cas whispered, “Her name is Donna Hanscum and she’s new to town. I spoke with her this morning at work and pretty much gave it away that the call was from me.”

“Why? The cops here are dirty!”

“Not her. She wanted to know everything I knew about the meds, Sunset Fields, Mahoney, Goldy, Imelda, and...” he glanced around again, “oddly enough, she wanted to know everything I knew about Fred Jones.”

“Who?” Dean asked.

“A resident. A friend that Bobby visits daily.”

Dean frowned. “What about him?”

“I’m not sure! I mean, he’s on that same medicine Goldy was, but so are three other residents, and other than their names and a rough history, there was no more mention of them!”

Dean sat back. “So...”

“So, I think there really is something to the residents talking about missing jewelry. There is more going on than Mahoney prescribing poor meds.”

Dean sighed, Cas sitting back as Sonny approached, sat milkshakes down and parked a hand on her hip with a grin. “Anything else?”

“Burger and fries,” Dean said flatly. Cas ordered a chicken sandwich with a side salad. Dean waited, one finger tapping steadily on the table.

She left and Cas leaned in again, sliding his shake to the side. “You look angry.”

Dean huffed sarcastically. “Ya think? Why is it, that all we get are MORE questions?”

Cas gave him an understanding grin, nodding. “But she believes there is something going on! Dean, this is huge!”

Dean nodded, sliding his milkshake to himself, stabbing it with the straw. “I hope. I hope she’s different than the others. But I gotta say, Cas, it could all be her feeling you out.”

“To what end?” Cas asked, frowning.

Dean leaned forward. “People are dead. Imelda. Goldy. You need to be careful.”

Cas swallowed, glancing down before meeting his eyes again. “She also asked me about Carl Stevens and Wendy Goodson.”

“What?” Dean asked incredulous. “How would you know anything about them?”

“I don’t!” Cas shrugged. “But she asked! She is putting something together.”

“Did she ask about Chip? Or Don Stark?”

Cas sat back, looking slightly deflated. “No. I did mention them.”

Dean closed his eyes, fighting his temper to remain calm. “You just put a huge target on your back, Cas.” He opened his eyes. “You know her fiancé is Chip’s nephew, right?”

Cas frowned. “I had forgotten.”

Dean took a sip of his shake. “What about Wayne?”

“She seems to not be a fan. But he really isn’t relevant.”

That was true. Other than being a general douche, the guy thought aliens were plucking people out of town and experimenting on them. 

“I think Sam will be glad to hear about my talk.” 

Dean felt bad for bursting Cas’ bubble. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Maybe you are.”

“I just don’t want you ending up like Gary. Or Carl. Dying and no one believes it’s anything more than heart issues.”

Cas nodded. “I understand. I do not want my heart exploding like a ripe melon in the sun. But Dean...we have to DO something.”

Dean nodded. “I know. I get it, Cas. Let’s just...be careful.”

“Agreed.”

Dean snorted a laugh. “Ripe melon in the sun?”

“It’s an apt description,” Cas frowned. “So, how was the hospital?”

Dean scrunched his lips in worry. “Kat’s heart rate is slowing down. They’re worried about her kidneys too. Naoki is the same. Still in a coma. I talked Olivia into going home for a shower and some sleep. Poor thing was barely gone four hours before Chip showed up, nosing around.”

“Did you speak to him?” Cas asked, taking his first drink of milkshake.

“Sorta. Shook his hand and he told me what a great neighbor I am for keeping an eye on her.”

“Did you ask him why he was there?”

“No!” Dean scoffed, glancing toward the counter to be sure Sonny or Chip was not there. “I didn’t ask him why he was there.”

“You should try being more direct,” Cas offered, dunking the cherry in whip cream before putting it into his mouth. 

Dean raised a brow at that. “Guess we all can’t be as slick as you, Columbo.”

“Columbo solved all his cases, if I remember correctly.”

Dean smirked, “It’s good you’re devastatingly handsome. I don’t think you’d get away with half the shit you say if you weren’t.”

Cas smiled, the blue in his eyes warming to flames. “Devastatingly.”

Dean could feel his cheeks blush as he grinned harder, looking down at his shake. “You know you are.”

Cas chuckled low and warm. “If you say so.”

Dean took a drink of milkshake, sucking long and hard through the straw. On his third swallow, he looked up at Cas, who was sitting there staring at him with a very amused and happy smile.

Dean swallowed two more times, let the straw go, licked his lips and said, “What?”

“You know what,” Cas chuckled, his voice cracking as he stirred his own shake idly.

“What do ya say, after we eat I take you for a nice long drive?”

“What I always say. Yes.”

Plates slid onto the table, making them both sit back a bit and slide their shakes over to make room. He did his best to give Cas a cocky grin. The kind that seemed to drive his boyfriend just a little bit crazy. By the way Cas held his stare, neither paying Sonny a bit of attention, it was working like a charm. She was gone before either of them let the stare go.

******************************************************

  
  
Sam stood on his front porch wearing a suit, looking over Lily Dale Lane. He felt defeated. Like the very town he had invested his hopes and dreams into was nothing short of false advertising. The serene imagery that had once made him smile, was now painted in distrust. The sprinklers that spritzed the pristine lawns, the waves of his neighbors walking by, and the perfectly painted front doors were all taunting him. Water from the sprinklers ran like tears down the reindeer’s face of the Carrigan’s gaudy lawn ornaments. The Smiths looked like perfect assholes with their smart clothes and fake waves. And the door to the Whittaker’s held secrets he did not understand.  
  
“We gotta get outta here,” he muttered bitterly.  
  
The screen door creaked and shut like a vice grip. “Ready?” Gabe asked flatly.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
They headed down to the Impala, sliding into the back seat, Dean and Cas already waiting in the front. Dean’s car shone like a new penny, reflecting sunlight and leaves from the trees that crossed above the glossy finish of the long hood. They all wore suits and looked like fine gentlemen. In truth, they were all working angles to tear at the tightly sown, phony stories in Charming Acres, each of them working diligently to find out what stunk beneath the glimmer of the ‘supposedly wholesome’ town around them. And the car...well, he did not have the same love for the car that Dean did. Dean saw it as their refuge. The bright spot in their past. Sam’s eyes lingered along the seams of the upholstery with disdain. He’d slept here because they didn’t have a home. He’d shivered in blankets, curled up in the very place his feet now barely fit. He’d bled all over the back seat and then had to scrub it out himself because his dad had decked him from the driver’s seat, then bitched at him for bleeding.   
  
A sour taste filled his mouth. Disillusionment was a bitter bitch.  
  
Gabe took his hand, pulling it to his mouth and kissed his knuckles. He turned to his husband, letting the past fade away. Gabriel was good. Tested. Tried. True. And he was ashamed to realize the man was comforting him when it should be the other way around.  
  
Their destination? Another funeral. They had been to three. Gary Frieling. Imelda. And now, Mrs. Golden. The others had been brief appearances at the viewings to share their condolences and respect with the families. This one was more personal. Melanie was broken hearted. Her grandmother had raised her. It had been unexpected and there was a strong sense of something having gone foul with her death. And Gabe had lost another silver swan. He still smiled when he left for work in the mornings, but rather than purely joy, it was now weighted with determination.  
  
They filed inside the funeral home, nodding solemnly to those they knew. A bitter taste grew in his mouth again. It was disgusting that they knew the entire process to funerals. He’d still yet to make it to the little amusement park just out of town or even to the bar he heard rumor existed. But the dry, cool air and carpeted stillness of the funeral home was now a familiar environment.  
  
A lot of people knew Goldy, making the viewing a well-attended affair. For as crowded as the room quickly became, Melanie was the sole survivor of her family. She stood at the front of the room in a simple, black dress with her friend Camille by her side. As they neared them in line, Melanie hugged Cas tightly, fresh tears wetting her cheeks. She hugged Dean next, holding his hands tightly as she braved a smile and sniffled, “Well, this sucks.”  
  
Dean and Cas smiled, Cas rubbing her shoulder as he said quietly, “I’m so sorry.”  
  
She huffed a laugh through a shaky breath. “Stop. This wasn’t your fault, Castiel.” They held a meaningful look as her mouth trembled while holding a smile. Cas nodded, looking about as put together as she was before he turned to Camille, hugging her as well.  
  
When Dean stepped aside, Melanie took another shaky breath as she caught sight of Gabe. Heartbreak was written all over her face when she said, “Grandma adored you.”  
  
Gabe hugged her tight, letting her cry on his shoulder as Sam was sure he whispered reassuring things to her. She nodded before letting him go, her sorrowful face turning up to him.  
  
“I’m so sorry,” Sam half choked, stepping forward to hug her. She felt so small in his arms, like most people did to him. They stepped apart and she took a tissue from Camille, wiping her eyes and cheeks.  
  
“Thank you,” she managed, taking another deep breath, eyes rolling up as she feigned a smile. “She wasn’t in the greatest shape, but...I still was not expecting this, ya know?”  
  
Sam nodded, smiling with understanding.  
  
“She was so spunky,” Gabe grinned sadly, looking toward the closed casket beside Melanie.  
  
Melanie grinned, nodding.  
  
“She told me you were the best thing that ever happened to her,” Gabe said quietly, looking at Melanie. “She was so proud of you for doing what you wanted with your life.”  
  
Melanie frowned, looking at the casket. “I shouldn’t have traveled so much. I should have insisted she move in with me.”  
  
Gabe shook his head no. “She bragged about how well-traveled you were! Every story started with, ‘when my Melanie was in ‘wherever’, she met Jeff Goldblum, or some other crazy thing you did!”  
  
Melanie sniffled, nodding her head yes as Camille put an arm around her.  
  
“She loved that you traveled!” Camille insisted.  
  
“I know,” Melanie half chuckled, half laughed. “I just feel so guilty.”  
  
Gabe glanced at the others for help.  
  
“You met Jeff Goldblum?” Dean asked, making Melanie deflate with a laugh as she wilted slightly onto Camille’s side.   
  
“I did. I read his palm.”  
  
Dean grinned with a sly wink. “So, you two held hands.”  
  
Melanie laughed again, regaining some levity and strength. “We did. He was all curiosity and nerdy questions!” She blew out a heavy sigh. “I need a drink,” she said matter-of-factly.

“I support that,” Dean quipped immediately.  
  
They all chuckled, moving on so she could receive the other people in line. Cas and Dean led the way as he put his arm around Gabe, kissing the top of his head. They sat with the few ladies from Sunset Fields who were brought in a van by one of the nurses. Sam felt weighed down by the long, shiny casket in the front of the room. The worry of what brought Goldy to an end that, according to Cas, seemed unnatural and frightening. He tamed his resentment for the town’s people that were blasé about such an event. As if an accidental death were just a ‘darn shame’. In the case of Goldy, she ‘had a good life’, so...what? Too bad? No. He squeezed Gabe’s hand as the viewing moved onto the funeral. All four of them watched the others with suspicion.   
  
After the graveside burial, they went to the reception, catered by Sheila’s daughter, at Melanie’s house. As they milled around the small house, Dean bitching about cucumbers not being ‘sandwich material’, Sam managed to find himself a little bit of peace and quiet in a chair in one corner of the living room. The Whitakers made an appearance. Every time nosy Nellie said what ‘a great gal’ Goldy was, she smoothly commented out the side of her mouth to the nearest body how ‘odd she was’ and ‘how odd Melanie is too’. Sam was practically growling when Camille shook him from his laser-sharp spying, dropping a hand onto his shoulder. Sam jerked, looking up at her.  
  
“Kinda jumpy!” Camille grinned down at him.  
  
“Yeah. Sorry.”  
  
She shrugged, looking around the room. “Funerals bother a lot of people.” She got lost in a bit of a daze for a moment. “Goldy’s happy. She’s free of all her aches and pains.”  
  
Sam smiled at her again. “You...know that?”  
  
She smiled easily, looking down at him again. “I can...feel it.”  
  
Sam nodded, wondering just how gifted the woman was. He suspected she might just be trying to make him feel better.  
  
A new bloom of ‘hellos’ and chatter sprung up around the front door as Cindy, Justin, and Fletcher came in. Cindy and Justin made their way toward Melanie, but Fletcher found Sam easily in the crowd and ran for him.  
  
“Sam!” Fletcher exclaimed, weaving through until he landed on him with thunk and a solid hug.  
  
Sam hugged him back, his head tipping down to rest atop his head of curly brown hair. “Hi, Fletcher.” The little boy’s hug tightened, and Sam took it, feeling himself truly relax inside for the first time since this morning. He sat up, finally, smiling at his little friend’s worried frown.  
  
“Are you sad?” Fletcher asked.  
  
He nodded, petting a hand over his hair. “But I’m okay. How are you doing?”  
  
“Okay,” Fletcher said softly, still fidgeting with the cuff of Sam’s suit jacket. “You’re dressed up fancy.”  
  
“Yep,” Sam nodded.   
  
“Hey Fletcher!” Gabe grinned, picking him up and holding him.  
  
Fletcher hugged him, making Gabe finally grin. With Gabe came Dean and Melanie, Cas shortly after, still shaking off the Smiths.   
  
“I see you still like hanging out with these two,” Melanie smiled, Fletcher nodding emphatically where he perched on Gabe’s hip.  
  
“Well, it sure is good to see you smiling so much,” Camille grinned, taking Fletcher’s hand. Her playful grasp suddenly jolted into a hard grip, making Fletcher’s face drop from a happy grin to fear in an instant. Camille’s eyes rolled up unnaturally and her entire body went stiff. Fletcher whined, pulling his hand with no escape. Sam, Dean, Melanie, Gabe, and even Cas stared at the two in shock.  
  
Just as quickly, Camille gasped, her hand relaxed and Fletcher yanked his hand away, swinging around to bury his head into Gabe’s neck, crying. Camille blinked, teetering on her feet slightly. Melanie and Sam both reached out to steady her.  
  
“What the fuck?” Dean muttered under his breath.  
  
“Are you okay?” Melanie asked Camille.  
  
“What the hell were you doing?” Sam demanded.  
  
Camille blinked, staring with wide eyes. “He knows!”  
  
“Who?” Melanie asked.  
  
“Knows what?” Cas asked.  
  
They all clammed up as the crowd’s attention was drawn to Fletcher crying. Gabe left with him, making some sort of excuses as he headed out Melanie’s kitchen door for the yard (and some space).  
  
Camille glanced around, pulling out of Sam’s grasp as Melanie ran a soothing hand up and down her back. Cindy Smith went out the door, likely to collect Fletcher, with a painted-on grin and endlessly perked eyebrows.  
  
Melanie steered Camille to the nearby chair in the corner that Sam had been sitting on.   
  
“That kid knows!” Camille said the instant the others weren’t watching her.  
  
“Fletcher?” Sam asked, feeling extremely protective.  
  
“Knows what?” Cas asked again, eyes narrowed so hard he reminded Sam of a poorly acted detective on a low budget TV show.  
  
Camille swallowed, eyes back to their normal size again. “When I touched Fletcher, I had a vision.”  
  
Sam sighed.  
  
“Hey,” Melanie said sternly, pinning him with a glare. “We might work show circuits, but Camille and I both have real gifts from time to time. Just like my grandma.”  
  
“Alright,” Dean interjected, giving Melanie a ‘calm down’ look, then eyeing Sam with a chill-the-fuck-out glare.  
  
Sam held his hands up in defense. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to doubt you.” He gave both women an apologetic grin.  
  
“Camille,” Cas said gently, “what do you think Fletcher knows?”  
  
“He’s scared. There’s a basement door that he’s not allowed in. And, and he’s seen a diamond bracelet on a velvet pillow. A stolen bracelet.” She looked up at Melanie. “And Goldy’s necklace.”  
  
Melanie’s mouth gaped open.  
  
“Wait,” Sam said, seeing a curious look settle onto Cas’ face, “Goldy is missing a necklace?”  
  
“Yes. A family heirloom,” Melanie affirmed. “She had it in a lock box at the bank...and when I went to get it today, the box was empty.”  
  
“Just like Imelda,” Sam announced, getting a sly nod from Cas and another from Dean. “Gabe said her family mentioned something very similar. They had bonds and jewelry in a lock box and it was empty when they went to get it.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Melanie asked.  
  
“Imelda, Goldy, and Sheila all seem to have missing jewelry,” Sam explained quietly.  
  
Melanie looked at them like they were nuts, and he couldn’t blame her. He stepped closer to Melanie. “Cas and Gabe are checking into things...but we think something is going on at Sunset Fields.”  
  
Melanie’s look soured. “If they hurt Grandma - ”  
  
“We don’t know enough yet,” Cas insisted. “But we’re looking into it.”  
  
Melanie nodded.  
  
“Why would Fletcher know about the jewelry? Are they in a basement somewhere?” Dean asked.  
  
Camille shrugged. “I just saw him not being allowed in a basement door. A wooden door with locks on it. Then Goldy’s necklace and a diamond bracelet on a velvet pillow...like they were being put in a glass case. A nasty looking case if you ask me,” she added, her nose wrinkling.  
  
Cas and Dean exchanged quizzical looks.  
  
“I’m sorry I scared Fletcher. That vision was...sharp,” Camille said, staring off toward the floor.  
  
“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Sam added. “You think the Smiths are in on this jewelry thing?”  
  
Camille shrugged helplessly. “Why would they be? I mean, they’re weird, but I can’t imagine them being a part of anything like that.” She squinted in thought. “I don’t know.”  
  
“They’re up to something,” Dean mumbled. “They never go to Sunset Fields though, right?”  
  
Cas shrugged. “I’ve only worked there for a week and a half. It’s hard to say.”  
  
“Well - ”  
  
“I’ll check into it,” Cas said, cutting him off as others approached to give Melanie their sympathies.  
  
Sam headed out to the yard, finding Gabe standing near the neighbor’s pool, Zoe hung on the side, goggles on her face, talking to Fletcher, and Cindy going on about an up-coming parade on Labor Day weekend.  
  
“Uh huh,” Gabe said distractedly to her as Sam neared them.  
  
“Hey,” Sam interrupted, putting an arm around Gabe.  
  
“Hey there, handsome,” Gabe grinned up at him.  
  
“I was just telling Gabe about the parade on Labor Day!” Cindy grinned.  
  
Dean joined the group as well, waving to Zoe.   
  
“Will you still be in town by Labor Day?” Cindy asked Dean, hands clasped at her belly like she really was an animatronic doll from DisneyWorld. Today, her blonde hair was curled down just below her ears and her black dress was trimmed with white lace cuffed short sleeves and a white belt.  
  
“Probably,” Dean sighed, not looking too thrilled about it.  
  
“Maybe you can drive that lovely car of yours in the parade!”  
  
Sam had to hide his shock when even Baby in a parade was not enough to entice a grin from Dean. He simply stared at her, huffed a laugh, and shook his head in disbelief.  
  
“Dean!” Fletcher interrupted, running up to the group as Cas joined them. “You’re invited to the wedding!”  
  
“What wedding?” Cas and Sam asked him.  
  
“Nicky’s!”  
  
“Wait,” Dean smirked, “Nicky the mermaid is getting married?”  
  
“Yeah!” Fletcher nodded hard, Zoe beaming from the above-ground pool.  
  
“Go Weems!” Dean cheered, truly smiling now.  
  
Cindy turned to Fletcher with an ice-cold glare. “Fletcher.”  
  
The boy snapped to attention; his mouth buttoning closed.  
  
“We don’t interrupt when adults are speaking. And we don’t talk about...that.”  
  
“Sorry,” Fletcher said in a tiny voice, taking a step to the side.  
  
“Actually,” Sam said, fighting hard to keep his temper, “studies have shown that having an imaginary friend is a sign of high intelligence and encourages communication skills, along with boosting self-esteem.”  
  
“Really?” Cindy said politely, switching gears instantly, acting like she cared.  
  
“So, it’s actually a good thing,” Sam said more sharply than he meant to.  
  
“Seems rather foolish to me,” Cindy said in an uncharacteristically normal voice.  
  
“It’s not,” Sam assured as tactfully as slamming a door in her face.  
  
“So, are we still on for the weekend?” Gabe asked her. Sam wondered what sort of plans he would have made (and wanted to keep) with the hateful bitch.  
  
“Yes,” Cindy said, her smile returning a little more dully than usual. “We’ll drop him off on Friday morning around ten and pick him up on Sunday evening.”  
  
“Sounds good!” Gabe grinned.  
  
She left, taking Fletcher with her.  
  
Sam held his tongue until the pair disappeared inside. “Fletcher is staying with us this weekend?”  
  
Gabe nodded. “Apparently Justin and Cindy have business out of town. The Carrigans were going to keep him but they have plans Saturday evening and needed a sitter. I offered to do the whole weekend and she said yes.”  
  
“Awesome!” Sam grinned.  
  
“He doesn’t like staying with St. Nicotine?” Dean said sarcastically. “Shocker.”  
  
“So, the Smiths home will be empty?” Cas asked.  
  
“It will!” Dean grinned.  
  
“I say we check it for a basement door. And diamonds,” Cas said low.  
  
“Good plan,” Sam agreed.  
  
Dean watched as Zoe swam away, the group moving away from the pool. “Sam, did you ever ask your buddy, Gazoo, if he thinks it’s weird so many kids here have imaginary friends?”

“Gazoo?” Sam scoffed, Gabe chuckling. “Sully?” He interpreted.

“Yeah. What’s suspenders have to say about all this. Cuz apparently imaginary friends have boyfriends now. And get married.”

“He said that a kid seeing a coping mechanism work for one of their friends might encourage them to try and use the same mechanism. Hence, a group of friends all having imaginary friends.”

“Awesome. And how long will Ariel, Acid wash, and Manicorn be around?” Dean went on.

“I don’t know. And neither does Sully. But he’s going to keep an eye on all of them when school starts.”

“Mm,” Dean hummed. “It’s like the psychotic leading the psychotic.”

“Dean Winchester!” Castiel scolded.

“Sorry,” he offered half-heartedly. 

“You guys pick on Sully too much. It’s not cool. The guy is as innocent as a puppy.” Sam said defensively.

Dean and Gabe exchanged a look.

“Fine,” Dean relented. “Sully’s awesome.” It would have seemed more sincere if Dean hadn’t rolled his eyes. “He sure is a fan of yours.”

“Oh he tells me how awesome Sam is every time I see him,” Gabe grinned with a glint of jealousy.

“He truly does seem to be quite innocent in nature,” Cas defended.

“Thank you,” Sam said pointedly.

“Though he is a hugger,” Cas admitted, semi disgruntled.

They all had to agree on that, Sam snorting a laugh.

“This town is starting to get to us. We need to remember to stick together,” Cas pointed out. 

“Murders make me cranky, apparently,” Gabe sighed.

“Cas is right. We gotta stick together and figure this out,” Sam nodded.

Dean nodded slowly. “Yeah. I think I know what we need to do next.”


	11. The Mentalists Make a Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Scooby gang is about to get some major pieces of information. Dean takes the lead and unleashes a new layer to their situation that he could have never guessed was coming.
> 
> Your guesses and ideas are absolutely amazing fellow sleuthers! Keep them coming!!! I’m dying to blurt out hints...but I won’t! Who can solve this mystery first??????

Chapter 11: The Mentalists Make a Plan  
  
  
Dean sat on the top step of Sam’s porch, waiting for everyone to finish changing from the funeral. His thoughts of settling into this strange town were getting weaker by the day. While Sam handled the internet-digging on Gary’s situation, he was completely distracted with the neighbor kid. With Sam’s focus on the Frieling house, the Starks and the Smiths, it was no wonder he was busy. Cas and Gabe were trying to figure out just what the hell was going on at Sunset Fields with Doctor Mahoney. Considering both of those issues had deaths tied to them (potentially murders), he felt a little lost on his own. He’d had more time to watch the neighbors than the others did. The Carrigans were cheerful fruit loops, tending to their yard of Christmas decor, bushes, hedges, and little patches of gardens in the back yard. Nellie was a front porch look-out while Wayne the alien guru/leprechaun was at work all day. The Starks raised a raucous every now and then with arguing. Maggie staying with Sue was definitely not enough separation for the pair. The neighborhood kids went on about their summer with swimming and sleepovers. And imaginary friends. Melanie was dealing with the death of Goldy. And nights still brought out the swingers. PJ sneaking over to Deb’s, Olivia sometimes joining them, when she wasn’t at the hospital. Cindy heading to the Stark’s, Justin heading to the Whittaker’s (yep, he threw up in his mouth a little bit when he caught that one), and even Sue sneaking across the street to PJ’s house. These little sneaky trips weren’t only relegated to night time. There was plenty happening during the day. And Nellie spent a good deal of time with Madge Carrigan, not that it surprised him. Plenty of these sneaky little trips may have had nothing to do with sex, but it did not change the behavior that went with it. Glancing over shoulders and scampering looked quite different than the parading walks couples took with their bright smiles and wide eyes.

In all the theories being slung around nightly by Sam, Gabe, and Cas, Dean had been stewing on all of them. Watching and waiting. He knew how to read people. As far as he could tell, it appeared almost every adult in the neighborhood was suspect as hell.  
  
For now, his eyes lingered on the solemn front door to the Himura house. Naoki and Kat had been in the hospital for too long. He had mowed their lawn, hoping one less thing to worry about would help Olivia, who was endlessly at the hospital. And though Gary’s death was important, Fletcher was important, the folks at Sunset Fields were important, it was time to start asking some questions about the Himura house. And he knew exactly where to start. He was starting with the last two neighbors who had yet to be truly tapped for information.  
  
Bobby and Rufus.  
  
Bobby had shared a little, but Dean suspected the tidbits he’d given so far were just the tip of the iceberg.

The screen door swung open, Gabe, Sam, and Cas coming onto the porch mid chatter about Camille and whether her vision was truly a reliable clue.   
  
Dean got to his feet, taking command with a stoic look at all of them.  
  
“So, what gives?” Gabe asked. “You said you wanted to go see Bobby and Rufus? What for?”  
  
“Those two are only worried about Chip Harrington,” Cas said.  
  
“Listen up, Scooby gang,” Dean cut them all off, “Bobby and Rufus know a lot more than they’ve been sharing. They said they want answers, so let’s figure out exactly what questions they have. There’s more going on down Singer Lane than they let on.”  
  
The three looked across the street, all eyes focused on the serene, shady entrance.  
  
“Don’t get me wrong,” Dean clarified, “I think they’re good guys. But something is definitely going on with them and Chip Harrington.”  
  
“Chip,” Sam said darkly. “His name comes up every time.”  
  
Gabe and Cas nodded.  
  
“Well, let’s do it,” Gabe said, taking Sam by the hand, the pair heading down the steps. “Somebody say a Hail Mary that we don’t get shot just walkin’ down their street.”  
  
Dean scoffed. “I did one better. I got us invited.”  
  
“They know we’re coming?” Cas asked.  
  
“Yep,” Dean said determinately, taking Cas’ hand, following their brothers.  
  
Cas let several feet of distance grow between the pairs. He squeezed Dean’s hand and gave him a side grin. “I like take-charge-Dean.”  
  
“Oh yeah?” Dean grinned, feeling his cheeks flush a little.  
  
“Bossy, even,” Cas chuckled.  
  
Dean squeezed his hand back. “I’ll have to remember that.”  
  
Cas’ low chuckle had nothing to do with the warm sunshine that ended as the smooth, blemish-free asphalt of Lily Dale Lane turned to roughly patched blacktop of Singer Lane. The heat and light of the day were immediately cloaked by the thick canopy of trees on both sides of the road. The hush of their active neighborhood was replaced with the light buzz of insects and the occasional bird, all of Charming Acres insulated away by the shady woods.  
  
“It’s quiet back here,” Sam noted, all of them watching the trees as if Bobby or Rufus might pop out wearing sniper camouflage with rifles in hand.  
  
“I like it,” Dean grinned, feeling his own shoulders relax. He had seen Nellie watching their crossing from the perch of her porch, empty watering can in hand. He was sure she was already reporting their little party to whoever it was she gossiped to. The privacy of the little woods felt like a relief.  
  
Cas chuckled again. “So, you want a place outside of town?”  
  
“Outside of this town,” Dean said quietly. “Like...a whole other town.”  
  
Cas nodded. “It may be presumptuous of me to say that that works for me as well, but it does. I don’t think my job will tie me down.”  
  
Dean let go of his hand, putting his arm around him. Presumptuous? The very thought of Cas trying to make plans for ‘them’ instead of just himself made Dean’s stomach wrap into a nervous bow. He knew he was grinning, and Cas was looking at him now, his arm sliding around Dean’s back.  
  
“Am I being presumptuous?” Cas asked softly.  
  
No! Fuck no! Plan, presume, give him an itinerary with bullet points!  
  
Dean grinned harder, looking down at him, their feet stopping automatically. Rather than words, Dean leaned in and kissed him.  
  
“I take it you are fine with my being presumptuous,” Cas whispered, kissing him again.  
  
“Very,” Dean whispered back.  
  
Cas pulled back an inch, his eyes searching Dean’s, a hesitant smile growing into a beaming grin. “I think you like me, Dean Winchester.”  
  
“Oh yeah,” Dean assured him. “You just let me know what the plans are, and I’ll be there.”  
  
“I’d tell you two to get a room,” Gabe’s voice cut in, “but last time you actually left, so...how ‘bout you just save it for later!”  
  
Dean’s eyes closed in embarrassment as Cas chuckled, flipping Gabe off. “Come on,” he said softly, kissing him one more time. “I’ll fill you in on all my plans for you tonight.”  
  
Dean had to grin at that. “Sounds good.”  
  
Hand in hand again, they followed Singer Lane until a small house came into view. The sharp pitched roof was covered in moss and Rufus’ truck was parked in front. On the porch stood Rufus. Boots, jeans, flannel, rifle in hands, and a toothpick jutting from his pursed lips.  
  
“Evenin’,” Rufus called.  
  
Dean grinned, he and Cas passing Sam and Gabe where they had halted in his gravel driveway. “Hey, Rufus.”  
  
“Heard you were comin’,” Rufus said, leaning his gun against the house beside the front door.  
  
“Bobby said he’d warn you,” Dean grinned. “Hope you don’t mind.”  
  
Rufus squinted upward into the trees as if the scent on the air might make him change his mind one way or the other.  
  
“You comin’ to Bobby’s with us?” Dean asked.  
  
“‘S a long damn walk.”  
  
“Come on,” Dean laughed. “Bobby promised me beer.”  
  
“I got beer,” Rufus said, crossing his arms over his chest.  
  
Dean reached to his back pocket, pulling out a small bottle of Jonnie Walker. “Bobby told me I might need to persuade you.”  
  
“Well!” Rufus grinned, stepping off of his porch. “What took ya so long?”  
  
Dean tucked the bottle away again and the five headed further along Singer Lane until (which, for the record, was not long at all) where it ended in a yard dotted with old cars and scrap parts. His house was small and blue with white trim and an odd assortment of hub caps nailed to the side of the house. “Now, THIS is charming.”  
  
The door to the house opened and Bobby stepped onto his wood porch with a grin. “Can’t believe you actually dragged that old bastard out of his yard!”  
  
“To hell with you, Bobby!” Rufus yelled, grinning when he thought no one was looking. “Look, it’s Columbo and Charlie’s Angels.”  
  
“Hm,” Bobby huffed good naturedly. “More like the Hardy Boys.”  
  
“Hey, Bobby,” they all greeted, coming inside when he stepped aside, holding the door open for them.  
  
Dean’s eyes raked over the inside of the house. It matched the yard in that there was interesting stuff tucked everywhere. Stacks of books had Sam and Cas’ attention as Gabe gave a gun on the mantle a wide berth, making Dean chuckle.  
  
“It might be loaded,” Gabe hissed.  
  
“Course it’s loaded,” Bobby said. “It ain’t fer looks.”  
  
Indeed, it wasn’t. Not much on the mantle was there ‘for looks’. There was a picture of Bobby with a woman, stacks of books, an old wooden box, and a red, glass jar. The wallpaper told him someone who cared about decorating had lived here at one point in time, but the rest seemed there out of necessity. A gray couch sat in front of a window and they jostled around a bit until Sam, Gabe, and Cas sat on it, Rufus sat in an armchair, and Dean took a regular wooden chair. Bobby sat behind his desk, leaning back in his chair. “So, what brings you boys back here?”  
  
Dean licked his lips, flipping the chair around that he was sitting in, so he could straddle it and lean onto its back. “Chip Harrington.”  
  
Bobby’s eyes darted over to Rufus who dropped his mouth like he never heard of the guy.  
  
“What about him?” Bobby asked slowly, like their answer might just get them kicked off his property.  
  
“He’s dirty,” Dean said confidently. “We can’t quite find the dirt yet...but he’s connected to everything that’s going on around here.”  
  
Bobby and Rufus exchanged a quick glance again, Rufus no longer acting like he was not in the know.  
  
“The first time I asked you about him, you gave me nothin’. The second time, you agreed with us that he’s dirty.”

“Mmhm,” Bobby agreed low and quiet, the two men holding each other’s gaze intensely.

“What’s his deal?” Sam asked, his frustration written all over his face. “He’s in business with everybody. And what he doesn’t own, the Starks do.”  
  
Rufus pursed his lips, nodding admission.  
  
“He’s got his nose in Sunset Fields too,” Gabe added.  
  
Bobby perked up at that, avoiding Rufus now.  
  
“He was at the hospital twice last week to check on Naoki and Kat,” Dean added, watching both men carefully.  
  
“Oh, was he now,” Rufus said darkly, glaring toward Bobby who looked downright murderous under the long bill of his ball cap.  
  
“It’s not just any mayor that would check on two patients that otherwise had nothing to do with him,” Dean pressed. “Like I said. He’s dirty. You said so yourself. We just can’t figure out how.”  
  
Bobby leaned forward onto his desk; fingers laced like he meant business.  
  
“Better break out that bottle a Jonnie,” Rufus said darkly.  
  
Dean pulled the bottle from his pocket, sitting it on Bobby’s desk with a solid clunk. “You do what you want, but I plan on being sober for this conversation.”

Bobby and Rufus exchanged another quick glance. He pulled open his desk drawer and lifted two glasses onto his desk. “There’s more glasses in the kitchen,” he said to Gabe, who glanced around before getting to his feet to fetch them.

Bobby poured two fingers of the amber liquid in each glass, nudging one toward Dean. Gabe handed out the rest, Rufus sitting back with a grin after a test sip.

Bobby glanced up at his mantle before turning to the group again. “This is a long story.”

Dean stared at him, his glass untouched.

The man sighed, looking like he really did not want to share whatever it was that laid heavy on his shoulders, making Dean almost feel bad. It also validated his theory that Bobby knew something vital to figuring out what was wrong with this town.

“This property was my daddy’s land. I grew up right here in this house.” His eyes skirted along the ceiling before staring into his kitchen. “He was a hard man, my daddy. Liked to knock me around for any little thing. My mother too.”

His eyes had a far away look as he went on. “Charming Acres was a pretty standard town in the fifties and sixties. Most folks worked at the mill. Our neighbor, Fred Jones, worked at the mill with my dad. Fred lived where Rufus does now. I suppose he saw a time or two when my dad got rough with me. Fred always was good to me. Gave me extra money for delivering his paper and such. Guess that’s why he was the one I ran to when things went bad.”

“What happened?” Dean asked softly, so drawn in already that he felt a growing hatred for Bobby’s father, images of his own supplying the void of a face in the tale.

“Guess I was about nine. I spilled something at dinner. Milk, maybe. Made a mess. My father got angry.” Bobby sighed. “He was a mean son of a bitch. Started hitting my mom and...”

“Bobby,” Rufus said softly, a small warning in the warmth of his voice.

Bobby shook his head, his mustache bristling. “I might as well tell someone,” he said to his friend. “It’s all bound ta catch up with me at some point.” He went on, eyes drifting back to the kitchen, “he started pounding on my mom and I jus couldn’t take it any more. I got his rifle from the corner there, and...”

Dean swallowed hard.

“Well, I shot him.”

A flash of Dean’s past reached right up and choked him. There had been several times when he had thought of doing the same thing to his own father. Though he’d never actually done it, there were times he was screaming inside to do just that. He licked his lips, taking a shaky breath.

“Did he...” Gabe started to ask but just couldn’t seem to finish the question.

“Die?” Bobby finished for him. “Yeah. Died on the kitchen floor.”

Dean closed his eyes, fighting back memories of their worst nights as kids. His anger and rage at so young an age. Sometimes he had beaten himself up about not being brave enough to do just what Bobby had done. As angry as he had been, hands shaking and no where to turn, he just couldn’t do it.

He chanced a glance back at Sam, who sat with his head down, eyes cast to the floor, surely thinking the same sort of things.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” Cas said softly.

Bobby nodded, taking a long draw of whiskey. He sat the empty glass on his desk with a hard plunk. “I was a kid. I didn’t know shit about shit. My mother screamed at me. Screamed...” he swallowed hard, looking down at his glass. “She told me ta fix it.”

“Fix it?” Sam repeated, stunned.

Bobby tipped his head. “Only thing I could think to fix it was Fred. I ran to Fred’s and told him what I’d done. He brought me back.” Bobby poured himself another glass and swirled it slowly. “I’m only tellin’ you this because I think you lot are worth trusting. And I don’t trust too many people. And one way or other, the truth is gonna come out. So, someone might as well know why I did what I did.”

“Of course,” they all murmured, needing him to go on.

“Fred and I buried my dad out back.”

Dean blinked.

“Out back,” he repeated, Bobby nodding, meeting his eyes with a conviction he hadn’t seen since he was out to Sea with Cain.

“So...” Sam said softly, “is he...still there?”

Bobby nodded slowly.

“And that’s why you can’t sell your land,” Dean surmised, seeing a flicker of relief in Bobby’s eyes.

“And that’s why I can’t ever sell this land.”

Silence filled the room as they exchanged stunned glances.

“So, we move the body,” Gabe said.

Bobby glared at him. “You can’t MOVE the body.”

“Why?” Gabe asked.

Bobby looked to Rufus for help, Rufus shrugged.

“You can’t just go digging up bodies and move them!” Bobby said incredulously.

“Why not?” Dean asked, backing Gabe’s thought. “If you want outta here, we help you get rid of it.”

Bobby shoved his hat off, scratching his head with a sigh. “It ain’t that simple.” He sighed again in exhaustion, the years of the burden weighing in the creases by his eyes and circles beneath them. 

“There’s more?” Gabe whimpered slightly.

Bobby toyed with his glass, eyes downcast. “After Fred and I buried him, he swore he’d keep that secret until his dying day. Swore to my mother that no one had to know. That everything was gonna be fine.” Bobby swirled his whiskey again. “The next day, when I got up, my mother said she needed to go to the store for some eggs.”

Silence filled the room as he tapped his thumb nervously.

“She never came back.”

“Damn,” Dean said, taking the words like a blow to his heart.

“Fred eventually moved in with me here, took custody of me. Sold his place to Rufus’ family.” His eyes moved back and forth more quickly now, his thumb still tapping. “Time went by. My mother never came back. Never turned me in. Just...disappeared. Life went on.” He sighed heavily. “Me and Fred were...happy. We were a family. But guilt weighs heavy.” He cleared his throat. “When I was sixteen, I decided I needed to confess. Well, Fred wasn’t havin’ it. He said if I confessed, he’d say he did it. We lived in a kinda stalemate for a while. Then he sent me away to live with some of his family is South Dakota. I guess the space did me good, cause I let it go. Best I could, anyway. Graduated high school up there. Had a life.”

Dean nodded, his heart breaking for the man.

Bobby turned his glass in his hands. “Had a life. Had a wife. I have my own salvage yard and garage up there. Folks there might think I’m cantankerous, but they’d never dream I was secretly sitting on a mess like this. Meanwhile, Fred stayed here. He couldn’t leave. And I knew it.”

Rufus got up, pouring himself another shot, patting his friend’s shoulder as he moved back to his chair.

“Then Fred started losin’ his memory. So, I came back.”

“Holy shit,” Gabe whispered.

Dean sat back, wondering what the hell he had just stepped into.

“I left my best mechanic in charge of my garage and salvage yard and came back to Charming Acres. Been stuck here for three years now. I got people back home squawkin’ for me to come back, but I can’t leave.” He huffed. “I’ll never leave. ‘Cept in the back of a police car. Or a body bag.” He rubbed his face, sitting back in his chair with defeat drooping his shoulders. “Everyone knows this land is mine. And that bastard Chip Harrington wants it. Him, Stark, and half the people on Lily Dale Lane, to build some sorta damn mall here. The shittiest part is, I don’t give a damn about this land. They can have it. I’d be glad to be rid of it. But I can’t move.”

“But...you were just a kid,” Sam said.

“Yeah,” Bobby nodded. “Truth is, once I turned eighteen, the whole situation just kept snowballing. Every year that went by just made it harder and harder to figure out what the hell to do. I’m ashamed to say that I let Fred sit here and babysit my mess for me. And now...”

“Now he might tell someone,” Cas said, getting up from the couch, pacing. “He is confused.”

“When I first came back, he wanted to tell the cops that he had done it and let me walk away clean. I won’t let him. All he did was help. He gave up his life for me!”

“He loved you like a son, Bobby,” Rufus assured. “It would break his heart if you dug up the past.”

Dean slumped over, his head laying on his arms. “Jesus, Bobby.”

“Are we obstructing justice?” Gabe asked.

Bobby smirked at him. “No. No one is getting into this mess any deeper than they already are. I’m telling you all this because I moved back home to take care of business. I was just gonna wait until Fred was too confused to care anymore, confess, and deal with the fallout. But I can’t get these vultures off my back about selling this damn land. And then...”

Dean sat up, staring at him. “Then?”

“Well, I moved back to town and this place went nutballs while I was gone! This Chip Jackass is covering up crimes left and right! People are dying every other week in that nursing home. And I can’t figure out how! And...”

“And tell ‘em what ya did, Bobby,” Rufus snapped. “Go on, this is the good part.”

Bobby rolled his eyes.

“My favorite part,” Rufus stated, looking like it was anything BUT his favorite part.

Bobby leaned forward now, fired up from Rufus. “Four people died at Sunset Acres. All in a row. One every other week.” He accentuated his points by stabbing his desk with his finger. “First, they get confused, then they die. In the meantime, their family gets robbed of any money or heirlooms they got stashed away. Even locked away.”

“So, what would you do?” Rufus asked the group.

“Well, I called the police,” Cas stated, glancing between the two.

“And would you do that if you were hiding a dead body in your backyard?” Rufus demanded.

Cas narrowed his eyes, looking over at Bobby. “Perhaps...not.”

“Well,” Rufus said happily, staring at Bobby, “see? He says not.”

“Shut up,” Bobby groused.

“So, you called the cops and they did nothing,” Dean supplied, seeing a lot of familiar patterns already.

“Right,” Bobby deadpanned.

“You think he dodged the bullet, right?” Rufus grinned ruefully, slinging back the remainder of his shot. “Not Bobby Singer. No.”

“What happened?” Sam asked.

Bobby looked remorseful as he shrugged a shoulder. “I know a guy who knows a gal, and I sorta...I raised enough hell that the FBI is here. Investigating.”

“What?” Dean said in shock.

“The FBI!” Gabe gulped, getting up to pace around the living room.

“Jesus, Bobby!” Dean shook his head.

“Well, they don’t seem to be helping,” Sam frowned.

Cas was on his feet, pacing like his brother. “It’s Donna!”

Rufus chuckled like he was watching a comedic skit.

“What?” He, Sam, and Gabe said.

Cas grinned. “It’s Donna Hanscum!”

“The freaking sheriff?” Dean asked, getting to his own feet.

“Am I right?” Cas asked, staring at Bobby.

Rufus laughed outright.

“Shut the hell up, Rufus,” Bobby griped.

“Hmm,” Rufus mocked, “I am hiding a dead body in my yard, but injustice is being done! My Bat signal didn’t work, so...I’ll call the feds.”

Bobby groaned.

“Ya fucked up, Bobby,” Rufus stated.

“I know!” he yelled back.

“So, the new sheriff is actually with the FBI?” Sam clarified.

“Yes,” Bobby admitted.

“Why didn’t you just move Fred to a different nursing home?” Dean asked, his mind spinning.

“There ain’t any close enough for me to keep an eye on him,” Bobby said, like he’d explained this a million times. Most likely to Rufus. “I gotta keep an eye on him because if he gets confused and confesses about the body -“

“So keep him here,” Sam suggested.

Cas shook his head. “Without a lot of nursing services, Fred wouldn’t do well at home right now. His dialysis and diabetes are difficult to manage.”

“How many people at Sunset Fields have died like that, Bobby?” Gabe asked, bringing everyone back to the heart of the matter.

“Too damn many. The four that got me all worked up. Now two more since Donna got to town.”

“But Donna is engaged to Chip’s nephew,” Sam said, shaking his head with some confusion.

“Yeah. She went under cover, meeting him at some sorta cop convention. She was just trying to get an in with him, then they started dating and then the damn fool asked her to marry him. Needless to say, she hates this case.”

“She asked about you,” Cas said carefully, sitting back down, he and Gabe following suit. 

“You talked to Donna?” Bobby asked.

“I did. I reported Dr. Mahoney. And I seem to have given her some helpful clue involving medication.”

Bobby sat back with his mouth gaping. “I knew it!”

“We don’t KNOW anything yet,” Dean insisted.

“Mahoney,” Bobby swore.

“You think Dr. Mahoney is robbing people?” Sam asked. “I haven’t really looked into him at all. I was still digging through crap with Chip Harrington and Wayne Whittaker.” 

Bobby chewed his lip in thought. “Maybe it’s been Mahoney all along.”

“Well, there’s still a major problem with Chip covering crimes,” Gabe insisted, Bobby nodding. “So, it would make sense if the two were involved. Maybe Mahoney is cutting him in to keep it quiet.”

“That’s what we think,” Rufus said. “Problem is, we can’t poke the beast too much. Not with Bobby bein’ the one to call in the feds. And the backyard.”

“So, Donna doesn’t know about...the yard,” Sam said, half question, half statement.”

“Right,” Bobby nodded. 

“We gotta move the body,” Gabe said again, Dean nodding in agreement.

“Where? Where do you move a body? And how?” Bobby demanded. “I got that damn Nellie spying on me through the trees, Donna stopping by, and Fred to keep track of.”

“And now you have help,” Dean said.

Bobby shook his head, slumping in his seat. “You are NOT getting involved with -“

“Too late,” Dean grinned, standing up, swinging his chair back to where it had been. “I’ll move the body. Nellie knows we’re here, but they don’t have any reason to suspect there’s a body here, right?”

“No,” Bobby said faintly.

“Good. It’s done. I’ll get the body moved, and you can take Fred back home with you.”

“And Donna can figure out the rest,” Sam added.

“Oh, you’re not getting in this,” Dean said pointedly to his brother. “In fact, you stay as far away from this as possible.”

“But -“ Sam started to argue.

“But nothing. You have a life,” Dean stated matter of fact.

“So do you,” Cas argued.

“Cas,” Dean sighed, “just...”

“Just what?” He snapped. “Forget about you? That is not happening.”

“Alright,” Rufus said, waving for all of them to sit down. “This is how mistakes are made. Keep it together. I say, WE help Bobby by helping Donna figure out what the hell is going on in this town. Then she’ll leave, THEN we move the body. Then we go back to our normal, boring lives.”

Everyone stared around at each other. 

“That might work,” Gabe relented.

Dean weighed the pros and cons. He really wanted that body to not be a problem for his friend. But Bobby was right. The neighbors watched him like a hawk. He wished Bobby had just told him, so he could keep Sam, Cas, and Gabe out of it, but since he’d come on the visit, the four of them had been pretty much inseparable. 

“Fine,” Dean said, picking up the glass of whiskey. “But we’re gonna need a really good fucking plan.”

*************************************************************

Castiel sat back in his chair, lifting a brow in thought. They had been planning for over an hour now, all of them crowded around Bobby’s kitchen table.

“So, you want me to sneak into Mr. Whittaker’s office,” he clarified, Gabe and Rufus nodding. “And what am I looking for?”

“Anything on the dead residents,” Bobby said, sliding the list across the table to Cas. “Medical charts, death claims, that drug you told us about, anything hinky.”

“Hinky,” Cas stated, nodding. He tucked the list into his pocket.

“Gabe,” Bobby said, reviewing for the good of the group, “you’re going to find out if there is any surveillance at Sunset Fields, footage of weird stuff going on, snoop through Mahoney’s office, and keep an eye on the residents.”

“Yep,” Gabe nodded.

“Me and Sam are gonna visit the Smith’s house on Saturday night to check out the basement. If we can get a lead on where the jewelry is going, we can find out who is moving it,” Dean said.

“Sam,” Bobby went on, “you are going to dig up anything on Mahoney, the Harringtons, the Starks, hell...see what you find on Sonny Harrington too.”

Sam nodded. 

“Sam has been searching for anything on Chip and the Starks. He’s not finding anything!” Dean said.

“That’s true,” Sam sighed. “They’re all over the place, but I keep hitting dead ends.”

Bobby nodded. “I could put a call into a friend of mine.”

“None of your friends are gonna be your friends, if you have them sniffin’ around something the feds are already sniffin’ in,” Rufus warned.

Bobby nodded. “You’re right.”

“I’m always right,” Rufus sighed under his breath.

“And what exactly are you contributing?” Bobby griped back.

“My intellect!” Rufus said as if he were blind to the blatant facts. “And...I...we, you and me, Bobby, can check into the Naoki’s house. See if we can’t figure out why they’re sick. Keeps you and me outta trouble with Chip and The Starks.”

Bobby nodded reluctantly. “This is nuts.”

“This is gonna work,” Dean insisted. “I think we have more than enough people involved as it is. We’ll figure out where the jewelry is going, who’s moving it, and then who they’re working with at Sunset Fields.”

Sam nodded. “We get the Sunset Fields case wrapped up, that might just bust Chip’s innocence scam wide open, and bam, we get Donna outta town.”

“And with her gone, we move the body or figure out how to destroy it,” Gabe added.

“And then Fred can come home with you to Sioux Falls,” Cas nodded at Bobby.

Bobby nodded, glancing around at them sheepishly. “Sorry to involve any of you in this. I tried fixing it on my own and...” he shook his head in frustration. “I thought bringing in the big dogs might bust this thing wide open, but Donna says she’s having a real problem getting people to talk without giving herself away.”

“People are dyin’, Bobby,” Rufus said, all his taunting gone. “You’re a good man, Bobby Singer. Fred tells you so every day.”

Cas grinned, nodding. That was true.

“We’re gonna help these folks,” Rufus assured him, squeezing his shoulder. They all nodded solemnly.

“And then we’ll move that goddam body,” Rufus sighed, getting an eye roll from Bobby.

“I think we need to work very quickly,” Cas warned, hating to add pressure to this situation. “Fred is already taking the medicine that I linked to the deaths of Imelda and Goldy. His confusion is getting worse.”

“If I get busted for my backyard,” Bobby said, “I need you all to finish this. There is something wrong with Charming Acres. If I get cut short in all this, I need ta know you’ll see it through. And keep Fred safe.”

They all nodded solemnly. 

“Let’s set up shifts to hang out with him,” Dean suggested. “If he’s the next target, then we need to circle ranks and keep him safe.”

“Agreed,” Cas nodded.

“I think we all know what we’re doing,” Dean said. “Let’s call this a wrap for now.”

They all nodded, getting up. 

Castiel took Dean’s hand on the walk home. It was dusk and the daytime neighborhood noises were quieting down for the night. The street lamps had Lily Dale Lane lit in their orangey glow. They headed inside the house quietly, making their way to their rooms. In the doorway, Sam stopped, the whole group stopping in the hallway.

“I can’t believe Bobby killed his dad.”

Castiel nodded slowly. “The incident seemed like a culmination of poor parenting and easy access to guns. It never should have come to that.”

“That’s easy to say if you haven’t had to watch a parent hit someone you love,” Dean said with a trace of bitterness.

Gabe reached for Sam’s hand, squeezing it.

“I just meant it was a terrible misfortune to feel so fearful and trapped and have weapons so easily available. Bobby was so young.”

Dean nodded, his jaw still clenched tight.

Gabe sighed. “I can’t believe Fred covered it up for so long. If they would have told the truth, Bobby would have been fine. Instead he’s had that hanging over his head for so long.”

“I think he did the best he could. He was trying to protect him,” Sam said softly.

“Yeah, well, we gotta get that body outta there,” Dean said resolutely. “Without the neighborhood watch.”

Gabe pulled Sam into their bedroom, pulling the door closed.

“I need a shower,” Dean said flatly, turning to the bathroom without a backward look.

Castiel stepped into the bedroom he and Dean were sharing. Sam had gotten them a dresser, nightstand, and lamp to improve their accommodations. He turned the lamp on, turning the switch with just one turn, bathing the room in a soft, dim glow. He slid the drawer to the nightstand open, pulling out the Homes and Land magazine that advertised local real estate for sale. If there were a trash can in the room, he would have tossed it in. Frustrated, he tossed it back in the drawer, closing it. His plans certainly weren’t turning out like he thought. He pulled his clothes off, hearing Dean in the shower. He laid back on the bed and sighed, his eyes drifting shut in a weary exhaustion from the long day.

A dream of light, satiny kisses stirred him awake in what felt like only a moment later. His lips woke mid-kiss, body reacting as though it was coming to life from a long winter’s hibernation. His eyes fluttered open, his kiss blooming into a smile. “Dean,” he whispered, taking in the sight of Dean over him, skin still damp and warm from the shower. His hands slid over more warm skin as he reached up, feeling his arms and broad shoulders, then dragged his nails up Dean’s neck until both hands threaded into his hair.

“You just looked too good to leave alone,” Dean admitted, biting his lip. 

Cas, enthralled with Dean, pulled him in for a deeper kiss. “You smell delicious,” he whispered as Dean’s mouth moved along his chin and down his neck. “So good,” he whispered again.

Dean made happy little noises as he worked his way down Cas’ chest, then slid his boxers off with only the steamiest of little grins.

Cas’ own grin spread slowly, loving everything about Dean. “What are you doing, Dean?”

“Thought I’d warm you up,” Dean said, just before flicking his tongue out to taste Cas’ cock.

“Warm me up?” Cas grinned harder, petting through Dean’s damp hair, watching every second of how his body arched, his hands gripped his hips, and his eyes shut, lashes long and pretty against his freckled cheeks, until his mouth stretched open, swallowing him into a sinful pocket of wet heat. He continued to pet through Dean’s hair, seeing his ass sway gently with the encouragement.

Oh that ass.

He tried not to indulge too much in the nirvana of Dean’s sweeping tongue, the pressure his mouth created, the noises he made, and the alluring bob of his head. If he let himself, he could come right now. Waking up to a horny Dean was mind blowing. But he could tell by the sway of his ass, and the fact that it was still perched into the air, that this was not Dean’s endgame. 

After only a few moments of heaven, Cas sat up, cupping his hand on Dean’s throat to feel his muscles working. To feel how full his throat was. “Come here, to me,” he whispered raggedly. 

Dean let his cock go with a little pop, licking his lips as he crawled up Cas until he straddled his lap with wide spread legs. Dean did not want a lot of foreplay tonight. “You drive me so crazy,” Cas whispered, nipping along his neck as his hands gripped along his hips until they slid down, squeezing handfuls of ass. Dean moaned a pleading sound and Cas’ chest flooded with pleasure and want. He sat back, staring Dean in the eye before kissing him so hard Dean literally had to hang on to him. He felt like he was on a high, needing to have every bit of him. 

He rolled them, putting Dean on the bottom, where he preferred to be, and where Cas loved to put him.

“I opened myself in the shower,” Dean gasped, making Cas pull back to look at him again.

“You did?” He purred.

Dean nodded, biting that damn bottom lip before letting it slide as his eyes lifted to meet his with brazen timidity that only Dean Winchester seemed to be able to capture. 

Watching Dean’s eager eyes, Cas wasted no time as he fumbled a stray pillow away and shifted Dean’s hips. “We’ll see how well you did,” Cas grinned, reaching for the lube as Dean groaned, grinding his hard cock up into his.

“I know,” Cas whispered, an amused chuckle making Dean hum happily. 

Sitting up, he quickly lubed his fingers and kissed Dean’s knee, making him grin. As he held his gaze, he slid two fingers inside him easily. He hummed his own happy noise as Dean breathed out steadily. “Ooohh, you did do a VERY good job.” He added a third, fluttering his fingers, delighting in the little pant it elicited. He withdrew and angled himself quickly to push his own swollen dick inside him like a hand inside a well-loved glove. 

Lined up with Dean’s body now, he rocked, kissing him, teasing him with open mouthed kisses that had Dean arching up to chase him. He arched his back just right to leave room for Dean’s balls, yet press his cock between their abdomens. Dean whined immediately, wrapping his arms around Cas’ torso, clawing his back just enough to make chills ripple along his skin, making him gasp between one kiss and the next.

While there had been little to no foreplay, he was in no hurry to push Dean over the edge. He loved him. He meant to tell him from one body to the next, rock it into his pelvis, rub it along his skin, seal it with every kiss, and punctuate it with every nip of skin. He rocked on steadily, feeling Dean frenzy and wane, frenzy and open for more, frenzy and give himself completely.

He kissed Dean through several bouts of pleading eyes and demanding thrusts. He didn’t need him to beg. He didn’t need to hear any words at all. Dean begged beautifully with his squeezing muscles, his arrant legs, and his clawing fingers. Dean was the one who needed words. Sweet, sultry, little words whispered into his ears, dropped on his tongue, and pressed into his skin. And Cas gave them like a steady stream, praising him, promising more, promising forever, dirty little teases, and filthy admissions. Though Dean hadn’t said an intelligible word beyond ‘yes’, Castiel could feel it in his entire body that he was on the brink and desperate for release. He arched his back just a bit deeper, thrusting just a bit harder, laced his fingers through one of Dean’s hands, hovering with his open mouth just barely touching Dean’s, and hammered inside him with increasing intent. He watched as Dean’s green eyes, black in the dark shadows of their room, closed and his mouth froze in a silent plea. Cas gasped when Dean’s body jolted into action, gripping his cock deep inside him, heels digging into his back and Dean came, hot, sticky semen flooding between them. He released the gate he’d been madly steeling in his mind, eyes finally closing as he came, feeling a high like never before, pumping harder, harder, and harder, until all the world felt satiny soft and happy. So happy. Dean made him so happy.

“Dean,” he panted, collapsing fully onto his chest, clinging to him like a life raft in an ocean of bliss.

Their hands still laced, he let his breathing come back to normal, syncing to Dean’s heartbeat. He felt himself rise and lower slowly. Felt Dean’s free hand running slow, steady fingertips down his back.

“You have a dirty mouth,” Dean chuckled, making Cas smile at the rumble beneath his ear and the truth that, yes, he could have a dirty mouth.

“I meant every word,” Cas said, turning his head to rest his chin on Dean’s collar bone, giving his lips easy access to Dean’s neck. He could see one corner of Dean’s mouth tilted into a smile and felt his happiness in the light strokes to his back that retraced their path to toy with the back of his hair. 

He pulled himself out of Dean, both of them gasping softly. Ignoring the mess between them, Cas pushed up, straddling Dean, who lay there looking up at him. 

He brought their entwined fingers to his lips and kissed them. “Dean...”

Dean blinked up at him. Open. Happy. Warm.

“I love you,” he whispered. “Very much.”

He kissed Dean’s fingers again, praying he had not just ruined one of the hottest, most soul-soothing moments of his life.

Dean’s soft smile stiffened, his eyes catching on Castiel’s.

“No pressure, Dean,” he assured him. “I just want you to know.”

Dean stammered slightly. “I, I...okay,” he whispered.

Castiel grinned anew. “You are so easy to love.”

“No, I’m not,” Dean scoffed.

“Just let me,” Cas whispered, leaning down to kiss him. Dean hugged him tight. “Sorry if I’m rushing things,” he whispered, keeping his eyes closed, not sure what else to say.

He felt Dean’s heavy sigh and worried he’d said too much. He rolled off of Dean, sure the man needed to breathe freely without his body weighing him down. He was not surprised that Dean said nothing in return to his confession. When it came to intimacy, Dean needed plenty of room and no scrutinization. He sat up on the edge of the bed, pulling his boxers back on. “I’ll bring back a nice warm washcloth.”

Cas went into the bathroom, his heart feeling as light as a bird. He loved Dean. That’s all there was to it! He considered himself a passionate man, and even by his standards, that sex had been the most passionate moment in his life so far. Steamy, ridiculously, insanely passionate. He stared down at his half hard dick perking up in his boxers, huffing a laugh.

“Damn.”

He ran warm water and added a touch of soap. He loved Dean Hot-As-Hell Winchester!

***************************************************************

Dean lay frozen on the bed. Like a stack of falling dishes, his thoughts came crashing in jolts in his mind.

I didn’t say it back.

He told me he loves me.

I didn’t say it back.

I ruined everything.

He’s going to get mad.

He’s going to get sick of me.

Why didn’t I just fucking say it back?! I love him!

LOVE!

It can’t be right.

His mind drifted back to the sex they’d just had.

He’d never been loved like that before.

Not like that.

And then Cas said he loved me!

And I didn’t fucking say it back!

He stared at the ceiling.

What if Cas didn’t come back?

He was probably going to sleep on the couch because who would want to share a bed with someone who was so fucking damaged?

In all the cacophony of bracing thoughts, he never moved a muscle. Not until he blinked when Cas was back so soon.

The lamp was still on the lowest setting, that weird level that makes you blink several times until you adjust to it, and usually it’s not enough light so you turn it up a notch. But even in the dim light, Cas was glowing. 

As if the light had been turned up, Dean had to blink a few more times to adjust to Cas’ face.

His body was completely relaxed, an easy smile on his face, and two warm washcloths in his hands.

“Right where I left you,” he grinned sweetly.

From experience with Cas, he knew one washcloth was soapy and the other one was just wet. They would be scalding hot in the bathroom so by the time they got to Dean’s body, they were still warm. Cas was sweet that way.

Dean lifted his hands, letting Cas wipe him clean. He’d learned that this was Cas’ way of taking care of him and he was learning to like it.

As Cas washed his abdomen, Dean chanced a glance at his face again. He looked so damn happy! Why wasn’t he mad? Or upset? 

“I’m looking forward to this weekend,” Cas grinned, working in no particular rush as he cleaned his penis. “This mystery has turned into quite the adventure.”

Dean stared at him in confusion. Why wasn’t he freaking out? Yelling or pressuring him? “Cas,” Dean finally choked out, throat raw from moaning and the late hour, “are you...mad at me?”

“Of course not,” Cas assured him as if he were silly. 

“But...”

Cas nudged him to lift his leg, Dean complying. “I knew you would freak out enough for the both of us.”

Dean frowned. “I’m not freaking out.”

Cas’ eyes met his, just as soft and blue as if they were sitting in the kitchen having coffee together. “Now that, Dean Winchester, is a lie.”

Dean’s mouth fell open.

Cas made a mockingly shocked face back at him before falling into an easy grin again. “It’s fine. I know you’ll figure you’re way out of it sooner or later.”

Dean sat up, taking the washcloth. Undeterred, Cas simply started wiping him off with the clean one, still freaking smiling.

“Figure my way out of what?” Dean asked.

“That trap you set in your mind to smack yourself down when things get too...” Cas tipped his head back and forth in thought, “perfect.”

“Perfect,” Dean repeated.

Cas met his eyes with an amused grin. “It is, isn’t it.”

“Wait,” Dean stammered, laying back again as Cas continued to wipe him, then took both cloths back to the bathroom. Dean lay there flat on his back again, staring at the damn ceiling. “What the hell just happened?” He mumbled.

Cas came back in, still looking as happy as ever. He got into bed and seemed completely unbothered by Dean staring at him in wonder. He leaned across him, turning the light off, kissing him on his way back.

“Stop worrying,” he said softly, kissing him again. “I love you.”

Dean gaped a little as Cas laid down, fluffing his pillow.

“You...” Dean froze, mind still shifting haltingly.

Cas chuckled. “I’m so glad I can finally say how I feel, I mean, I’ve thought it for some time now -“

“Cas!” Dean burst, unable to compute how relaxed Cas was with all this.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep saying I love you so much right away, but there it is. I just love you.”

Dean wanted to melt. And laugh. 

“Are you doing the ‘I have to tell you I don’t like it’ thing?” Cas looked at him seriously for the first time. “Am I truly upsetting you? Snookums?”

Dean frowned, stopping a laugh. “Dude. No.”

“Good. I don’t like to upset you.”

“I meant no, don’t snookums me.”

“Alright.” Cas grinned again, happiness flooding from him. “But I do love you.”

“I know,” Dean said, both hands covering his face before he rubbed at his eyes and dropped his hands back to his lap. “I just -“

“I know you love me too,” Cas said breezily.

“What?” Dean stammered.

Cas was up on one elbow again, grinning at him. “There is more than one way to tell someone you love them. I just happen to be fluent in Dean Winchester body language.”

“But -“

“See,” Cas tipped his head, smiling even harder. “You said ‘but’ and meant ‘oh no, he heard me? Now what do I do with my tough bad boy image?”

“Shut up,” Dean scoffed, trying not to laugh at Cas mocking him.

“Now that meant, ‘tell me more, how can this be? I love him and he loves me and let’s go kiss up in a tree!”

“That is NOT what that meant,” Dean chuckled, shoving Cas, who easily fell onto his back giggling. Dean shook his head at him. He should be freaking out right now. Mad, even. Cas was teasing him and acting like this was so freaking easy! But all he could do was turn and kiss him over and over until Cas’ giggles were gone and his mouth was too occupied for a smile.

Pulling away slowly, feeling like he’d survived a relationship milestone that he wasn’t supposed to, he gave Cas one last kiss. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Dean.”

He laid down, Cas snuggling into him. He could feel Cas’ smile against his shoulder, making him stare into the night in wonder. Why did Cas put up with his stunted emotions?

Cas’ arms squeezed him in a sleepy hug. “I love you too.”

Dean frowned into the dark. “I didn’t...”

“You did,” Cas whispered. “You tell me all the time in the little sweet things you do for me. I’m not rushing you. I’m just much more verbal than you.”

Dean stammered at that. How did Cas have him so figured out?

“If you want me to stop saying it, I will. But it’s there anyway, whether I say it or not. So, for now, I’ll say it for the both of us.”

Dean squeezed Cas’ arm. He did love Cas. He should just...say it. He laced his fingers with Cas’ remembering how amazing the sex had been tonight. Cas had him pinned into a slow pace that drove him mad minute by minute. It had felt different. Deliberate. Intense. And all the little things Cas had said that still made him want to rub his ass against him. 

He did love Cas.

And Cas knew.

And that was enough?

Cas kissed his shoulder one last time, squeezing his hand in reassurance.

And it was enough.

For now.

Dean closed his eyes, relaxing into him.

For now.

And soon...very soon...he would ditch his baggage long enough to tell the world’s best man that he loved him too.

He grinned, kissing Cas’ hand one last time before he fell asleep.


	12. Investigatori Heroici

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know there was a big gap until I posted this today...but it’s a big chapter.
> 
> Buckle up, my friends!
> 
> Leads are falling into place. More investigating is done and more secrets are revealed. What exactly are they getting in the middle of?

Chapter 12: Investigatori Heroici  
  
  
Wayne Whittaker’s office was a bust. Castiel had expected to find more UFO research when he came across the packet he had attempted to hand him weeks ago, but it was the only alien information there. There were no patient files of any sort, only personnel records and building reports from state inspections. The only remotely odd thing in the office was the alien packet and a ridiculously vast tea collection. Three mahogany boxes held carefully sorted and labeled teas. But hey, everyone had their hobbies.  
  
Gabe had better luck all around. Mahoney had hours at his office downtown, affording Gabe longer in the doctor’s office. Under the guise of fixing the air conditioner register (for which he laid tools out and everything) he picked the lock to the file cabinets and hit pay-dirt. He stuffed files into every crevice of his janitor’s cart and bagged a small stack to look like trash.   
  
In his office, he moved all the charts into a trash bag and took it to the dumpster, handing it off to a waiting Bobby. It all felt very Cloak and Dagger and had him chiseling down lollipops like a beaver cutting teeth.   
  
Thursday evening found all four around the kitchen table, Sam with his laptop and two notepads full of notes, Gabe’s stack of files and a Zip drive on the table. Cas had nothing to bring, opting for providing fresh coffee and a tray of apple tarts.  
  
Dean, the last to join them, came into the kitchen with his nose leading him immediately to the table. “What’s that? Who was baking?”  
  
“I was baking,” Cas grinned, kissing him on the cheek as he passed by him to sit a mug of coffee down for him.  
  
“I, this is, you’re, wow,” Dean stammered, cheeks blushing a little.  
  
Castiel grinned at him, telling him he loved him too, sealing it with a wink. Dean grinned adorably hard, looking at the tray.   
  
“Are these mini apple pies?” Dean asked, all but licking one.  
  
“They are. They’re apple tarts,” Cas chuckled, bringing a stack of small paper plates and forks. “Just for you.”  
  
“Bluaaah,” Gabe gagged.  
  
“I think I liked it better when Dean was shy and Cas was oblivious,” Sam noted.  
  
“Same,” Gabe muttered.  
  
“Oh, you do not,” Cas grinned, sitting down. “We aren’t nearly as obnoxious as you two.”  
  
“Yeah, really,” Dean huffed.   
  
“Besides, I baked for two reasons. One, it makes Dean adorably happy.” Dean winked back at him as Sam and Gabe sighed. “And two, I didn’t find anything of use in Wayne’s office, so this, unfortunately, is my only thing to offer.”  
  
“That’s fine,” Gabe grinned, pushing the tall stack of files toward him, “I brought plenty to keep you busy. These are the files from Mahoney’s office that Bobby kindly delivered. You shoulda seen us! We met out back by the dumpster for the hand-off! He was all -” Gabe made a burly, stoic face, “and I was all nonchalant. Slick and cool as a cucumber.” All of them had to grin at his enthusiasm. “And I lifted the lid to the dumpster and let it slam down so it sounded like the bag went inside! Bobby said I was an idjit, but whatever. It was cool. We were cool.”  
  
Sam shook his head at his husband, grinning with amused adoration as Gabe shrugged.  
  
As Dean served tarts, Cas took the top file, beginning the long job of glancing through them for any mention of Tolteridine.  
  
“I thought you already went through files. Aren’t they all digital?” Sam asked, eyeing the stack.  
  
“I did. The only access I have is to open files, which is of living residents. And long-term-care homes are required to keep hard files of residents that passed away in their facility, for seven years,” Cas explained, eyes scanning the file in his hands quickly.  
  
“Makes sense. So get this,” Sam started, referring to some notes he had written down. “I got into bank statements from Dr. Mahoney.”  
  
“Dude,” Dean frowned, his tart prepping freezing in place. “You hacked into a bank?”  
  
“Uh...yeah,” Sam nodded. “Bobby knows this guy, Frank, who, talk about a weird cat, can hack into anything. So, he does the hacking, then links me in.”  
  
“That is...” Cas said worriedly.  
  
“Fucking illegal as shit!” Dean finished.  
  
“Sam,” Gabe frowned. “I don’t want you to get in trouble for this.”  
  
“You broke into an office!” Sam argued back. “And so did you!” He pointed at Cas. “And we’re planning on breaking into our neighbor’s house this weekend!”  
  
“Yeah, but,” Dean argued back.  
  
“But nothing, Dean. We are ALL breaking laws here. I promised Deb I would help her.”  
  
They all bit their lips, realizing Sam was right.  
  
“Anyway,” Sam went on, “Mahoney keeps getting deposits from that pawn shop up the road. AND the Smiths are getting deposits too.”  
  
“How many people’s bank accounts are you watching?” Gabe asked, trying not to show how worried he was.  
  
Sam blew out a breath. “The Starks. Both of them, which is like six accounts. And the Carrigans. I also got past accounts for Imelda and Goldy. And Melanie. And I checked into Fred Jones too.”  
  
“Holy shit,” Gabe breathed, rubbing his top lip nervously.  
  
“This Frank guy is good. Bobby swears by him.”  
  
“Then why isn’t Bobby doing it?” Dean asked.  
  
“The feds,” Sam said. “They check into him occasionally. I guess it’s an FBI thing. I don’t know.”  
  
“Or they’re onto him,” Dean worried aloud.  
  
“Frank says no, but...” Sam shrugged.  
  
“So, who all is making money from the pawn shop?” Dean asked, sighing his stress out as he took a bite of his tart.  
  
“Mahoney, the Smiths, AND the Whittakers. Oh, yeah, I checked on the Whittakers account too. And Chip.”  
  
“Jesus,” Gabe sighed.  
  
“Wait...Lucky Charms is in on this?” Dean asked.  
  
“Looks that way,” Sam nodded.  
  
“Son of a bitch!” Gabe sat back in shock. “I told you my silver swans weren’t batty old ladies! That bastard is in on making money off the jewelry?”  
  
Sam shrugged. “It’s possible. Unless all these people are moving something else through the pawn shop. But it makes sense to me.”  
  
“Wayne Whittaker?” Cas asked, looking thoroughly confused. “I can’t say I like the man, but he thinks aliens abduct people. I had dismissed him as just another fluke of Charming Acres.”  
  
“I knew the Leprechaun was no good,” Gabe swore.  
  
Cas shook his head in wonder. “Why did you investigate the Carrigans?”  
  
Sam shrugged. “They’re weird.”  
  
They all nodded. It made sense, in a bizarre Lily Dale sort of way.  
  
“How much money are they making?” Dean asked.  
  
“Couple hundred at a time.”  
  
“That won’t pay any bills,” Dean reasoned. “No wonder the Starks aren’t involved.”  
  
“Daily,” Sam grinned.  
  
“What?” They all said in shock.   
  
“Yeah. And the sums are even numbers. $200, $300, $500.”  
  
“Per day?” Gabe repeated.  
  
“Okay, not quite daily. It goes in spurts,” Sam clarified, looking at his notes. “But the dates are always the same for the Whittakers, Mahoney, and the Smiths. They each get a matching deposit for three to eight days in a row. This happens once or twice a month.”  
  
“What the fuck?” Dean whispered, looking so confused.  
  
“Yeah, Bobby and Rufus were losing their shit when I told them. It’s really looking like they are moving jewels and money through the pawn shop.”  
  
“Good job, Sammy,” Dean admitted. “Hope we get to be on the same cell block when we all go down for this shit.”  
  
“We aren’t going to jail,” Sam assured him.  
  
“Establish dominance early,” Dean said to the table at large.  
  
“I’ll be your cell mate,” Cas grinned at him.  
  
Dean shook his head. “It’s all fun and games until some mountain of a man named Tiny is staring you down while he licks the bars of his cell.”  
  
“That was oddly specific,” Gabe deadpanned.  
  
“Let’s just say I got bailed out just in the nick of time,” Dean said, shivering. “Alaskan jails are no fucking joke.”  
  
“No one is going to jail, Dean. And people are dying. Somebody has to help them.” Sam followed this with puppy-dog eyes, making Dean sigh with resigned annoyance.  
  
“I brought movies,” Gabe went on, handing Sam the Zip drive. “Sunset Fields has two surveillance cameras. One at the front door and one at the back. I’ve watched hours of footage, but I think I found something.”  
  
Sam plugged the stick into his laptop and slid it over to Gabe, who began clicking once it was loaded. “Here is the moment in question.” They all got up, crowding behind him to stare at the screen. “Here comes Doc Mahoney.”   
  
The black and white image of Mahoney coming out the back door filled the screen. He stood there for few moments, paced back and forth a few steps in the covered back entrance until a car pulled up.  
  
“Whose car is that?” Sam asked.  
  
“That’s the Whittaker’s car,” Dean answered easily.  
  
“It is,” Gabe nodded, slowing the play time to move frame by frame. The window lowered and Mahoney moved closer, stooping to the window. Wayne leaned just into the window enough to be recognized as he handed the doctor something, which was quickly pocketed into the white lab coat.  
  
“What was that?” Cas asked.  
  
“Well, that’s the question,” Gabe said, taking a screen shot of the exchange, moving out of the file to edit the picture, cropping and zooming to enlarge it.  
  
“Is that a pill packet?” Sam asked.  
  
“I’ve seen that before,” Cas said softly, squinting to make out the now blurry details. “The square...I think it’s tea.”  
  
“Tea?” All three asked.  
  
“Yes. Wayne has a massive tea collection at work. Fancy tea bags that he puts his own tea into. He had several kits of them in his office.”  
  
Gabe sat back. “Shit. I got all excited for nothing?”  
  
“Maybe not,” Sam said, “what kind of tea did he have?”  
  
Castiel frowned in thought. “I don’t know. Breakfast tea, black, mulberry, peppermint, orange, some homemade mixes.”  
  
“What kind of homemade mixes?” Sam asked.  
  
Castiel shrugged. “One of the boxes had all homemade mixes. Things like Nellie’s mix, Madge’s Morning something, I don’t really remember. But the tea is loose in little compartments and there is a set of empty tea bags, a tiny scoop, and a crimper that seals it. You can even add a string and that tag on it.” He pointed at the little paper square barely visible in Mahoney’s hand. “It has a red W on it. I figured it was just a hobby.”  
  
“Did you get pictures?” Dean asked.  
  
“No. It was tea,” Cas shrugged.  
  
“But why would Wayne meet Mahoney just to give him tea?” Sam asked.  
  
“People are weird,” Gabe shrugged. “Especially here.”  
  
“Save this file,” Sam said. “I think you’re right, Gabe. Something’s really strange about coming to work just to hand someone a teabag.”  
  
Gabe went to work saving the images, making a file.  
  
“Is tea a big thing around here?” Dean asked.  
  
“Not that I’ve noticed,” Sam admitted. “And I don’t know much about it.”  
  
“What if they’re making some kind of poisonous tea?” Cas asked.  
  
They all looked at each other like they often did while tossing around guesses. Maybe. Maybe not. Anything was possible but was it really probable?  
  
“I’ll add it to the list,” Sam shrugged, flipping to a list of what seemed to be random words. He added ‘tea’.

“Water?” Dean asked, pointing to it on the list.

“Yeah,” Sam shrugged. “I jotted down anything that has seemed...weird since we got here.”

“And it’s only one page long?” Dean asked, patting Sam on the shoulder. “Dude. You need to work on your observation skills.”

Sam shook his head with a smirk. “Ed mentioned that there was an issue with the water. He said Naoki’s family, Rufus, and Bobby wouldn’t sign up for switching to city water. He made it sound like water might be making Kat sick. So, I figured it might be worth checking out.”

“And?”

“And I haven’t gotten to it yet.”

“I can try to check it out,” he shrugged. “Milkshakes?” He read next.

Sam shrugged again. “I don’t know. They’re good. Like...really good. And everyone was so weird about us getting them. And Sonny is -“

“Weird,” Dean finished, the pair of them nodding. “This is overwhelming.”

“What date was that video?” Cas asked. “I’ll cross reference it with any deaths, just to see if it warrants further investigation.”  
  
Gabe read the date and Cas began flipping through charts.  
  
“I sweet-talked a nurse I’ve been chummy with at the hospital,” Dean said, taking his seat, cutting into his tart. “Neither Naoki nor Kat are on that drug with a T.”  
  
Sam nodded, making a note.  
  
Castiel looked up suddenly. “The video is the same date as the death of a Margaret Tumey.”  
  
“No freakin’ way,” Gabe gasped.  
  
Sam circled something in his notes and wrote quickly. “Timeline?” He asked.  
  
“The video was at 7:45 in the evening,” Gabe said, looking up at Cas.  
  
“T.O.D. 9:20pm.”  
  
“Cause of death?” Sam asked.  
  
Castiel skimmed further, looking up in creeping horror. “Heart complications.”  
  
“It’s got to be something!” Gabe said excitedly. “We just found something!”  
  
“Yeah...maybe,” Sam nodded.  
  
“We’re gonna find even more on Saturday,” Dean said around a mouthful of tart. “I gotta good feeling about this.”  
  
  
**********************************************  
  
  
Friday evening flew by, the group taking Fletcher to the park to teach him how to play soccer, which turned into playground mayhem with a game of tag that had them all worn out.   
  
Saturday morning found Cas on the front porch eating a bowl of cereal with Fletcher.  
  
Dean scrubbed a hand through his hair as he stepped onto the porch with a cup of coffee. “Morning.”  
  
Cas looked up at him from the top step, smiling about something Fletcher had just said. His eyes were so blue and happy that it sucked the breath from Dean’s chest for a moment. ‘I love him’, thundered in his head so loudly he worried for a split second that he hadn’t just said it.  
  
Nope. The sun kept shining and sprinklers kept spritzing. His own smile back in place, he gulped his coffee, regretting it as it scorched the roof of his mouth, tongue, and back of his throat. “Fuck,” he swore, wiping at his mouth and wincing.  
  
“Hi, Dean!” Came Fletcher’s voice, making him wince again.   
  
“Hey, Fletcher, sorry for using bad words. I just burnt the, burnt my mouth.” Days like these were why Dean lived a solitary life. He’d done nothing but blunder his way through this morning and he’d barely started it!   
  
Cas must have read him like a book, because he was up on his feet in a flash, bringing those piece-of-heaven blue eyes with him and a grin that crinkled the edges of them. “Careful,” he whispered, taking the mug from Dean’s hand, “I wouldn’t want that talented tongue damaged.” He winked and kissed him on the lips, pausing just a second longer than usual. Dean, feeling everything heightening with his abrupt onset of nerves, felt everything lower back down and relax. “I love you too,” Cas said softly, kissing him before walking back to the step where Fletcher sat eating his cereal.  
  
Damn.  
  
Oh, he was good. So fucking good that it left Dean bewildered every time he said shit like this. Especially when it felt like he saw inside his soul and answered him so easily.  
  
He realized he was standing there staring as he came back to himself. “Hey. You stole my coffee.”  
  
“You always make the best coffee,” Cas smirked up at him.  
  
“It’s black,” Dean smirked back, shaking his head as he went inside to get another cup.  
  
Gabe trotted down the steps just in time to shove Dean and dodge around him.  
  
“Are you five?” Dean sniped, laughing.  
  
“Big day!” Gabe grinned, pouring coffee, which Dean neatly stole. “Hey! That’s for your brother!”  
  
“Oh, good.” Dean took a sip, wincing again. “Your brother stole mine, so, guess we’re even.”  
  
Gabe threw his hands up. “What? This family, I swear.”  
  
Dean sat on a kitchen chair. “When are we going over to the Smiths?”  
  
“As soon as Fletcher gives us a good reason, it’s Scooby time.”  
  
Dean nodded. “Wait, is Sam actually the last one up?”  
  
“Please,” Gabe scoffed. “He was up and went for a run, then had a shower.”   
  
“Damn,” Dean shook his head. It could be a toss-up between him and his brother as to who got up first in the mornings. But lately, he was sleeping in like never before. He knew damn well it had everything to do with the strong arms that held onto him, keeping him warm and happy.  
  
Cas and Fletcher came into the kitchen, putting their empty bowls and spoons into the dishwasher. Sam came down the steps, his hair damp and smelling like a beauty parlor.  
  
“Hey guys!” Sam grinned.  
  
“Morning,” everyone called.  
  
“Fletcher is ready when you are,” Cas grinned at Gabe. “And while you two are visiting Garth, I’m gonna go over to his place and get his telescope.”  
  
Ding, ding! They were in.  
  
“And my space map!” Fletcher said excitedly.   
  
“And the space map,” Cas grinned down at him. He looked up at Dean and slipped him another trademark wink.  
  
As elated as he was about their plans that were about to go into action, he had enough room in his headspace to fully appreciate the fact that Castiel Novak took special pride in winking at him, knowing it drove him crazy. They shared a brief stare that had just the beginnings of making him blush when the general chaos of the kitchen intruded back in.  
  
Gabe took Fletcher to Garth’s under pretenses of them visiting their friend who had a huge collection of sock puppets Fletcher wanted to see. The door was barely shut before Sam and Cas were grabbing for the kitchen door to the backyard.  
  
“Guys!” Dean snapped, holding a hand up, both men freezing in place. They all waited there frozen, listening hard.  
  
When Gabe’s car started, Sam’s eyebrows raised in excitement.  
  
“Waaait,” Dean said softly, listening harder. The car pulled away and he looked up at them with a grin. “Go!”  
  
Breaking into their own grins, excited with the thrill of solving this case, Sam and Cas scrambled for the door, the three of them emerging from it in a hurried, less than orderly, exit.  
  
“Shh!” Dean warned.  
  
“Act normal!” Sam huffed, craning his neck as he walked, like he needed to be any freaking taller. Dean whacked him on the back of the head.  
  
“Ow!” Sam said, startled. “Jerk!”  
  
“Bitch!” Dean snapped back, dodging a retaliatory swat.  
  
“Dean, Sam,” Cas said sternly, nipping the sibling antics before the two could get out of hand. They ‘casually’ hurried to the Smith’s back door, he and Cas glancing in all directions as Sam unlocked the door, all of them on high alert as they piled inside.  
  
The kitchen was...perfect. Spotless white counters with dark cabinets, a cookie jar full of huge cookies, gleaming appliances, and an immaculately clean table filled the kitchen.  
  
“Gross,” Dean huffed.  
  
“Buncha clean kitchen freaks,” Sam added, disgusted already.  
  
Cas smirked at the pair of them. “Come on, Dean, go get the telescope and sky chart from Fletcher’s room while Sam and I find the basement.”  
  
“Are you benching me?” Dean asked indignantly.  
  
“No!” Cas huffed. “But the two of you don’t work well together. If I leave the pair of you alone, I’m afraid we’ll end up arrested.”  
  
“Whatever,” Sam scoffed. “We aren’t even breaking and entering. Fletcher just needed his things. They gave me the key!”  
  
Cas gave no inclination of being swayed, so Dean rolled his eyes and headed into the house to look for the stairs.  
  
They crept through the dining room with its pristine white table cloth and eight chairs perfectly in place, bar stocked and clean in the corner.  
  
“Creeps,” Sam muttered, making Cas snicker.  
  
In the foyer, they found the staircase leading upstairs. All three of them stared at a door under it. It was wooden, matching the woodwork of the trim and banister.  
  
“Looks like a basement door to me,” Sam said, swallowing hard.  
  
“Or Fletcher’s bedroom,” Dean said. When both Sam and Cas turned to him with questioning looks, he shrugged. “They kept Harry Potter under the stairs. Why not?”  
  
“Douchebags,” Sam swore, staring at the door hatefully.  
  
Cas turned the knob, opening it. What they found was a closet full of cleaning supplies, including a broom, mop, and vacuum.  
  
All of them released an anxious breath.  
  
“Fine, I’m going upstairs,” Dean griped. “Alone, ya know, cuz it’s always smart ta split up, right?”  
  
Cas grabbed his hand, holding onto it. “Perhaps I was wrong. Let’s stay together.”  
  
Dean grinned, squeezing his hand. Yeah, that was much better.  
  
They moved through the foyer, into a stuffy looking living room that had a large ‘70’s style floor model TV. Furniture that looked like it was from the ‘50’s, and not a thing out of place.  
  
Why was old decor suddenly so terrifying?  
  
Seeing another doorway, the three moved through the living room and into a family room. The fireplace might as well have been fake. He was sure it had never been used. And the slightly more comfortable looking furniture still had a very dated, expensive look.  
  
“How is Fletcher any kind of normal?” Dean asked.  
  
“There’s a door,” Cas said, pointing. This door was wood, like the rest, but looked rather mundane. It certainly didn’t appear to be locked or off limits.  
  
Sam took the lead, opening the door easily. “Basement,” he said darkly. He flipped the light on and took a deep breath before heading down the steps.  
  
The carpeted steps softened their footfalls as they descended. What they found was an abnormally tidy laundry room and a storage room. They spread out, searching through boxes, but found nothing. Upon closer inspection, there were no other doors and nothing that looked remotely like jewelry stashes or anything that warranted Fletcher being not allowed.  
  
“Great,” Sam sighed. “Now what?”  
  
“We can check the upstairs,” Cas offered.  
  
“Camille specifically said it was a basement door,” Sam argued, looking for hidden doors like they were in a Hardy Boys novel.  
  
“Maybe Camille is full of crap,” Dean smirked. “Come on. Let’s get the kid’s telescope.”  
  
They made sure everything was in place and went back upstairs, then wound their way through the house again to go to the second floor.  
  
“Oh my God,” Dean balked, looking into the first room, then quickly glancing into the next. “Okay, now I’m totally freaked out.”  
  
Sam and Cas ducked their heads in, looking to see what was so insane.  
  
“Wait,” Sam said frowning, looking into each room again. “Do Justin and Cindy have separate rooms?”  
  
“Looks that way to me,” Cas said.  
  
The first room had blue plaid wallpaper with a twin bed that had a red bedspread on it. Framed pictures of old airplanes hung on the wall.  
  
“This looks like a doctor office waiting room with a bed in it,” Dean said.  
  
The second room had a twin bed with a pink bedspread, fluffy pink curtains, a make-up table, and a chair.  
  
“So fucking creepy,” Dean said.  
  
Cas chuckled. “Some people sleep better alone.”  
  
“Yeah,” Sam scoffed, turning to wander further down the hall. “Serial killers.”  
  
Dean stared at Cas expectantly. “Some people sleep better alone?”  
  
“I am not one of those people,” Cas grinned reassuringly, kissing him before moving to follow Sam.  
  
Sam plucked a hat from a hat rack at the end of the hall, putting it on his head. “Huh!” He gasped, hand to his heart in a comical rendition of Justin. “There is no man-love in this house!”  
  
Cas grinned as Dean rolled his eyes.   
  
“What would Justin know about love? Dude doesn’t sleep with his own wife,” Dean scoffed, staring into Cindy’s room again. “I mean, what the hell?” He chuckled.  
  
Sam gasped again, looking scandalized. “Sir! You watch your mouth!”  
  
“This mouth?” Cas grinned, kissing Dean on the mouth, making him chuckle into the unexpected kiss, taking the briefest moment to put his arms around Cas and kiss him back.  
  
“Well, I never! If we cannot remain civil, then you can skedaddle!”  
  
Dean and Cas stifled a laugh at Sam as he tipped his head dramatically and tucked hair behind his ears.  
  
“Using language like that...h-e-double hockey sticks? Kissing! You should have your mouths washed out with soap.”  
  
“Oh, even bleach couldn’t clean this puppy,” Dean smirked, pointing to his own mouth, making all three of them laugh.  
  
They lightly searched all three bedrooms, only finding basic jewelry in Cindy’s room that looked like things she would wear. They gathered Fletcher’s telescope and chart and left the house.  
  
“Well, that was a bust,” Dean sighed, sitting at Sam’s kitchen table in defeat.  
  
Sam paced the kitchen as Cas leaned against the counter.  
  
“You think we missed something?” Sam asked.  
  
“I think Camille was wrong,” Dean sighed. “It doesn’t mean they still aren’t smuggling jewelry through their house. They left for the weekend. Maybe they took it all with them.”  
  
“We need evidence!” Sam’s heated voice making the other two nod along.  
  
“I guess I’ll call Gabe,” he said defeatedly. He pulled his phone out, calling him.  
  
“Mr. Frizzle’s Freak Fest, how may I direct your call?”  
  
“Gabe,” Sam groaned.  
  
“What’s up, Samshine?”  
  
“We got nothin’. No evidence of anything other than the Smiths are neat freaks.”  
  
Gabe sighed. “I will never get the last hour of my life back. I hope you know that. Even Fletcher thinks Garth is weird.”  
  
“Is he doing the sock puppet thing?”  
  
Under his breath, Gabe whispered into the phone, “There are sooooo many puppets, Sam! And they all have different voices. Fletcher’s probably gonna have nightmares. I know I am.”  
  
Sam had to chuckle a little at that. “Well, pack it up and come on home.”  
  
“Be home in two shakes.”  
  
Sam hung up, sliding his phone onto the table in defeat.  
  
“What if the basement door was at someone else’s house? Or at the pawn shop!” Cas asked, his face lighting up. “Doesn’t Fletcher stay at the Carrigans an evening a week?”  
  
“Yeah,” Sam nodded.  
  
“Talk about freaky diabolical suspicious suspects,” Dean said tersely.   
  
“You didn’t have to ride to the corn soup rally with them,” Sam said. “They played Christmas music!”  
  
“That’s wrong on so many levels,” Dean grimaced.  
  
“They’re away, right?” Cas asked excitedly. “We could at least try to look in a window to see if they have a creepy basement door.”  
  
Sam and Dean exchanged a look.  
  
“You still have that kit?” Sam asked him.  
  
“You know I do,” Dean grinned. “It’s in the car.”  
  
“What kit?” Cas asked.  
  
Dean licked his lips and crossed his arms over his chest. He might as well fess up. “A lock picking kit.”  
  
Cas’ face fell into troubled confusion. “Do I want to know why you own such a thing?”  
  
Dean mustered a cocky grin. “Maybe you should ask why YOU don’t own one?”  
  
Cas stared at him, his mouth slightly agape.  
  
Dean winked.  
  
Cas immediately softened into a bewildered grin. “Right.”  
  
“Let’s do this!” Dean clapped, rubbing his hands together.  
  
“Let’s see if they’re gone!” Sam said, jumping into action so fast Dean and Cas had to catch up to him.   
  
They all crowded into the window in the living room, staring across the street at the Carrigan’s house.  
  
“The car’s gone!” Dean noted.  
  
“Looks empty!” Sam grinned.  
  
“Guys...” Cas said with a note of worry.  
  
“Let’s go knock on the door!” Sam added, ignoring Cas’ worry.  
  
All three of them jumped back when Bobby’s face appeared quite suddenly in their faces on the outside of the window.  
  
Stumbling back, they all did their best not to trip over each other. Sam wiped a hand down his face as he went to open the door.  
  
“That was pathetic,” Rufus blurted.  
  
“Idjits,” Bobby said, shaking his head.  
  
Sam rolled his eyes, letting them in.  
  
“You were so busy ogling your 9:00 that you left your 3:00 wide open!” Bobby said gruffly.  
  
“Sorry sarge,” Dean bantered.  
  
“All of you need a crash course in stealth,” Rufus stated.  
  
“What are ya lookin’ for anyway?” Bobby asked.  
  
“The Smith’s house was clean as a whistle,” Sam informed them.  
  
“But we were thinking this mysterious basement door might be at the Carrigan’s,” Cas added.  
  
“Or just total bullshit,” Dean shrugged.  
  
“I’ve known Melanie and Camille a good while,” Bobby said. “I think it’s worth checking into. See, there’s fake woo woo crap, and then there’s REAL woo woo crap.”  
  
Dean bit his tongue, resisting arguing with him. Woo woo was beyond his skill set. That much he knew. “So, how do we do this? It looks like the Carrigans aren’t home. It’s now or never,” Dean said.  
  
Bobby nodded, both he and Rufus peering across the street. “Rufus and I are gonna go to Naoki’s. We got a key from Olivia and she knows we’re gonna take care of the cat.”  
  
“I didn’t know they had a cat,” Cas said. “Besides Kat, that is.”  
  
“Big, gray cat named Mouse,” Rufus added, twisting his head to gawk up the street.  
  
“Kat and Mouse?” Dean grimaced.  
  
Cas grinned a little bigger. “I think that’s cute.”  
  
Dean shook his head.  
  
After glancing up and down the street ten times each, Bobby stood back from the window, Rufus following him.  
  
“So, I knock on the Carrigan’s door. That’ll distract nosy Nellie while you muttonheads sneak in the back door. Got it?”  
  
“Got it,” all three answered.  
  
“If someone answers...I’ll...I don’t know...think of something to yammer about.”  
  
“I think I better come with you,” Rufus smirked. “You seem unsure and I can’t have you ditherin’ on the spot, screwin’ this up.”  
  
Bobby glared at him. “I am not dithering.”  
  
Dean, Sam, and Cas exchanged a semi-amused glance. These two were worse than an old married couple.   
  
“Okay,” Sam placated, “so you two will distract while we go around back.  
  
“Then Bobby and I will go to Naoki’s,” Rufus added.  
  
“Check for strange tea,” Cas said. “We have some footage of the Whittakers bringing tea to Doctor Mahoney. We’re wondering if it isn’t what they’re using to kill the residents.”  
  
“I thought Goldy had some kind of injection,” Bobby frowned.  
  
“She did. I know. We’re grasping at straws here,” Cas admitted, shaking his head, Bobby nodding in understanding.   
  
“We should be doin’ this at night!” Rufus peered out the window again, his hands worrying the buttons of his flannel.  
  
“Oh yeah, that wouldn’t look obvious,” Bobby said flatly.  
  
“Listen here, Captain Obvious,” Rufus started.  
  
“Alright!” Sam butt in, moving the pair apart. “We have a plan, let’s do it. Fletcher and Gabe will be back soon, so we don’t have a lot of time.”  
  
They all got in the Impala, Dean driving it to Rufus’ house, giving Dean, Sam, and Cas access to the back door while Bobby and Rufus continued up to Lily Dale Lane, walking up to the Carrigan’s front door to knock on it.  
  
Dean strained to hear while Cas practically squished him behind the hedge, trying to see the Whittaker’s house.  
  
“I don’t see her,” he whispered.  
  
“What are you fellas doing?” Came Nellie’s unmistakably nosy voice.  
  
“She’s at the front door,” Sam whispered, patting Dean and Cas in quick staccato, all three of them scrambling for the back door, hearing Bobby knock again.  
  
“I told you they aren’t home!” They heard Nellie say as Dean made quick work of the lock, earning himself a smoldering little grin from Cas.  
  
As Sam shut the door, the three of them froze along the back wall of the kitchen.  
  
“I really hate this town,” Dean muttered.  
  
“Yeah, we’re leaving,” Sam affirmed.  
  
“It smells so...nostalgic,” Cas admitted in disgusted horror.  
  
“So. Fucking. Weird.” Dean said under his breath.  
  
The kitchen had red walls with white cabinets, white appliances, and white tile counters. In the center stood a butcher block table covered in an assortment of trays, platters, and bowls. One was covered in tiny pecan pies, sugar cookies decorated like angels and ornaments lay on another. A huge bowl of red and white wrapped muffins sat in the middle, with several candles scattered amongst them. Christmas decorations hung, sat, and dangled from every wall space, counter, toaster, and knob. Soft Christmas music played from further in the house. They could see into the dining room, where a formal table was decorated with a two-foot-tall gingerbread house, ornately decorated.  
  
“There’s a tea kettle,” Sam whispered, pointing to a red present sitting on the burner of the stove. When he looked closer, the red present had a spout and a handle.  
  
“Creeps,” Dean winced.  
  
“Look for tea!” Cas said, opening a cabinet.  
  
“Guys!” Dean said, staring at a white, wood door next to the refrigerator. Sam and Cas crowded behind him.  
  
“Looks like a basement door to me,” Sam said.  
  
“It has a lock. Two locks,” Dean pointed. The knob had a key and large gold padlock was bolted above it.  
  
“That could be it!” Cas exclaimed. “It has to be!”  
  
All three heads jerked in the direction of a key turning in the lock of the front door. They stared at each other in shock.  
  
“They’re home!” Sam squeaked.  
  
“What do we do?” Cas blanched, eyes wide.  
  
“Go!” Dean waved frantically toward the back door, herding them all around the butcher block and outside. They ran, vaulting over benches on the patio, high jumping hedges and bushes until all three disappeared into the tree line of Bobby’s property, none of them stopping until they dropped onto Rufus’ front porch, heaving for air, and adrenaline still pumping hard.  
  
“Did they see us?” Sam asked, searching the woods.  
  
“I don’t think so,” Dean panted, holding a stitch in his side.  
  
“We were so close!” Cas said disgustedly. “The door was RIGHT THERE!”  
  
Sam patted his shoulder, staring toward the Carrigan’s house. “It’s alright. We know now. And next time, we’re goin’ all the way.”  
  
“Okay, before we go all Animal Kingdom and have pie with Smurf, we need a better plan,” Dean groaned, stretching out onto the porch.  
  
“I don’t understand that reference,” Cas frowned.  
  
“It’s a show. Animal Kingdom?” Sam shook his head, waving Dean off. “What the hell happened to our back up?”  
  
Dean sat up, wincing. “Oh yeah! Where the hell are Bert and Ernie?”  
  
“If you mean Bobby and Rufus,” Cas said, squinting, “I believe they are at Naoki’s house.”  
  
“That was too close. We need a better plan next time,” Sam agreed with Dean.  
  
“Did ya see the lock on that door?” Dean asked.  
  
“Yeah,” Sam huffed. “That had to be it.”  
  
“I didn’t see any tea other than a box of Lipton. But I only had a second to look,” Cas added.  
  
“If they actually use poisonous tea, I doubt they would keep it in the kitchen with their regular tea,” Sam said.  
  
Cas’ shoulders deflated. “That’s true.”  
  
“Think they heard us?” Sam asked.  
  
“No friggin’ clue,” Dean said. “I did not look back. I just ran like you two.”  
  
They waited another fifteen minutes until Bobby and Rufus came ambling back Singer Lane.  
  
Dean held his hands out with an accusatory glare, which Bobby immediately mirrored.  
  
“What the hell?” Dean barked.  
  
“They just showed up! What’d ya want me to do? Knock on the door?” Bobby groused.  
  
“Yeah! Anything woulda been better!” Dean snapped.  
  
“Bobby messed up,” Rufus assured smoothly, earning an open-mouthed glare from Bobby, “but next time, next time we’ll do better surveillance.”  
  
Cas gave both men a doubtful look.   
  
“We found a basement door, well, we’re pretty sure it was a basement door,” Sam said, getting everyone’s attention, “and it had a big lock on it.”  
  
“At the Carrigan’s?” Rufus asked with some surprise.  
  
“Yeah, St. Nicotine is keeping something under lock and key. Coulda been a pantry full of weed for Ed’s peace pipe, but I’d bet my next paycheck it’s a basement hiding jewelry.”  
  
“The Carrigans,” Bobby said low and with some shock. “I know they’re weird but...thieves? Seems kinda off.”  
  
“Everything is off about those two!” Dean shouted.  
  
“Alright,” Bobby glared. “Simmer down. We’ll...we’ll get back in there.”  
  
“There’s gotta be some event this weekend,” Sam suggested. “Preferably something the Whittaker’s are at too, so nosy Nellie isn’t watching.”  
  
“The town birthday party!” Rufus said, eyes going wide with an honest-to-God smile.  
  
“The town has a birthday?” Cas asked suspiciously.   
  
“Of course it does,” Dean grinned, holding a hand up for Cas to pull him to his feet. “It’s Charming Acres. They do weird-ass shit here like that. Makes total sense,” he went on sarcastically.  
  
Bobby nodded with a smirk.  
  
“Bet Lily Dale Lane has a birthday too!” He went on.  
  
“Dean,” Sam scoffed.  
  
“It’s Lily Dale, Sam! There’s probably a fuckin’ parade that ends on Lily Dale and everybody exchanges fucking cupcakes!”  
  
“Alright,” Cas said calmly, pulling Dean to him to hug him and calm him down.   
  
“It’s fucking stupid,” Dean muttered.  
  
“I know,” Cas murmured, trying not to laugh, kissing his temple. “We’ll figure something out. Even if it is Lily Dale or Charming Acres or drugs or tea.” He grinned as Dean wrapped his arms around him. “We’ll figure it out.”  
  
Dean nodded, grinning back at him as he stepped back.  
  
“Unfortunately,” Cas said with a weight that had everyone turning to hear him, “I do not think it wise to wait for next weekend. I’m not sure Fred will be safe that long.”  
  
A pained look crossed Bobby’s face as the others nodded gravely.  
  
“We sneak in tonight,” Dean said confidently. “Wait until they go to bed and sneak right in under their noses.”  
  
Cas nodded, feeling better about that than waiting for the weekend.   
  
“So...we’re gonna do that again?” Rufus asked, waving a finger in the general direction of the Carrigan house.   
  
“We gotta do something,” Sam argued.  
  
“Meet back here at dusk,” Bobby said. “If we’re gonna be stupid, we might as well be smart about it.”  
  
  
********************************************************  
  
  
Sam could not stop smiling. It was incredible that as daunting as everything felt at home, he could put it all away for a little bit as he sat in Harrington’s brightly lit diner, Fletcher and Maddie across from him giggled and told horrendous knock knock jokes, making each other laugh.  
  
“Two smalls and a vanilla shake,” Sonny grinned, sitting two single scoops of birthday cake flavored ice cream in front of the kids and a tall vanilla shake in front of Sam.   
  
“Thanks,” Sam said softly, both he and Sonny noticing as Jimmy from the Emporium walked in. He was surlier than most Charming Acres residents, like Bobby and Rufus, he didn’t have that brightly colored, odd, uber-happy bedazzle. But unlike Bobby and Rufus, there was something more sinister about him.  
  
Sam’s eyes darted quickly to Sonny, who almost frowned as she looked back at the table. “Anything else I can get you?” She asked.  
  
The kids chatted happily to each other and Sam took advantage of their moment of distraction and Sonny’s dip in mood, asking quietly, “Do you know that Jimmy guy?”  
  
Sonny’s eyes darted over to the man who took a stool at the bar. “Jimmy? Sure. He runs The Emporium down the block.”  
  
“Yeah,” Sam said slowly, “it’s kind of a sketchy place if you ask me.”  
  
Sonny gave it a thoughtful ponder, her empty tray turning to lay against one hip. “Yeah, well, he’s as shady as they get.”  
  
Sam’s brows jumped in surprise. “Shadier than Chip?” He whispered, knowing he was WAY out on a limb now.  
  
Sonny’s jaw tightened and she glanced away from the bar and Sam nervously.  
  
“Sonny,” Sam said, ready to apologize, when the clanging bell on the door distracted them both and Wayne Whittaker walked in, making a beeline for Jimmy.  
  
“No one is shadier than him,” Sonny said in a whisper so light that Sam found himself stretching up toward her to be sure he heard her right.  
  
“Sonny,” Sam said, shocked at how fearful she looked of Wayne Whittaker. He reached to gently touch her wrist, her nervous glance shifting to him, then away, very quickly. She took a step back and Sam held his hand up in apology, “Sorry!” He said quietly, gaining her eye contact again. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”  
  
She flashed a grin, the familiar grin she often wore like a mask, shaking her head so her ponytail swung merrily. “It’s no problem! Be back shortly to check on you!” She turned away and was gone.  
  
Sam stared after her, completely baffled. Suddenly aware of himself, he closed his mouth and turned back to the kids, finding both of them staring at him. He jerked to an upright position, shocked they were paying attention and wondered just what they saw or noticed.  
  
“Is your ice cream good?” Sam asked in a rush.  
  
“Sparkle says Sonny is acting like a grown-up,” Maddie said with a note of sadness in her report.  
  
“Like, working?” Sam asked, wondering at the odd statement.  
  
Maddie shook her head no. “Grown-ups act one way, but when they’re in the shower, they cry.”  
  
Sam stared at her in shock. He hunched down, leaning toward her. “Who cries in the shower, Maddie?”  
  
“My mom,” she said sadly, poking at her cheerful scoop of ice cream.  
  
Sam’s eyes slid over to Fletcher, who raised his shoulders like he had no idea what his friend was talking about.  
  
“Zoe’s mom does it too. And Kat’s mom moans sometimes.”  
  
“Okay!” Sam backed up quickly, not wanting to open that particular can of worms with two children that weren’t his own. “Parents get sad too sometimes,” he attempted to explain.  
  
“Not mine,” Fletcher said flatly.  
  
Maddie gave him a curious look. “Cindy doesn’t cry in the shower?”  
  
Fletcher shook his head. “She never cries, ever. She gets mad. But not sad.”  
  
“Huh,” Maddie frowned in thought, taking a bite of ice cream. “Maybe it’s because they aren’t your real parents.”  
  
Fletcher shrugged. “Maybe.” He went back to his own ice cream, not even looking upset about the conversation that had Sam feeling nauseous.  
  
“Guys, adults get sad too. But then they have to go to work or...it’s complicated,” he said, trying to make sense of her observation.  
  
“Sonny used to be happy. Now she does the fake smile thing,” Maddie said, as if it were a crying shame but that’s just how it was. Her eyes shifted to Sam, making him swallow. “That’s why us kids like you guys. You aren’t fake happy yet.”  
  
There had been many times Sam had heard a student say something that broke his heart. Alluded to or outright affirmed that the world was broken, or systems were broken, and people were drowning in them. But to hear someone so young make an observation that rocked him to his core, was more shocking than most. “Yet?” He asked.  
  
“Sparkle says you might never be fake because you have a really awesome husband. But who knows? You could be like Sonny. Fun one day then...” her eyes followed Sonny as she grinned at Jimmy and Wayne, taking their orders, “that.”  
  
“You’re pretty smart, Maddie,” Sam said quietly. “I hope you know you can always talk to us. Or Sully at school.”  
  
Maddie grinned and nodded, taking another big bite of ice cream, Fletcher eating away, unconcerned.  
  
Baffled, curious, heart sick, and frustrated, Sam took a sip of the milkshake. He was learning to associate the taste of vanilla with all these feelings Charming Acres gave him on a daily basis. He frowned into his shake as he mulled the last few minutes over in his head. Sonny had gone from happy to ‘that’ abruptly. She had made comments about Jimmy and Wayne. She had been frosty to Nellie Whittaker in the past, according to Dean, and she had admitted that her own father was less than honorable as the mayor. Chip was dirty. Jimmy was dirty. But Wayne? Again with people seeing something more in him than a batty old man who thought aliens were real. He needed to dig into the Whittakers.  
  
As far as the neighborhood kids? He wasn’t sure how to fix things on that front. All he could do was be an ear to listen and a shoulder to lean on.   
  
  
******************************************************************  
  
  
“We got walkie talkies,” Rufus said, pulling three off of a base, handing one to Cas, Dean, and Bobby. He picked up one for himself and shrugged at Gabe when he came up short, not giving him one.  
  
Gabe rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s fine. I’ll use my cell phone. Ya know, like the rest of us here in the twenty-first century.”  
  
“Channel four,” Rufus said smugly.  
  
“What is all this?” Castiel asked, peeking into the large box Rufus had put on the table.  
  
“Night vision goggles,” Bobby explained, handing one set to Dean and the other to Gabe. “Scopes, binoculars, oh, and these puppies are mine.” He pulled a black helmet-looking contraption out of the box. “This bad boy’s got night vision, thermal imaging, yellow light, day vision, and range-finding settings.”  
  
“Sweet!” Dean smiled, eyeing the thing like it was made of gold.  
  
“Sam just texted,” Gabe said to the group. “He and Fletcher walked Maddie home. Now they’re playing Candyland in the kitchen.”  
  
They all nodded.  
  
“Dean, you and Cas man Gabe’s front porch, watching all of Lily Dale. I’m goin’ in the woods straight out from the Carrigan’s.”  
  
“I’ll be at the Himura’s house,” Rufus added.  
  
“And I’ll be where?” Gabe asked, knowing he wasn’t quite the boy scout/ranger these guys were, but he was definitely stealthier than Cas.  
  
“I’m gonna park you right on the edge of Singer Lane,” Bobby said, patting his shoulder. “You’ll be my back-up and can watch the side of Lily Dale Cas and Dean won’t be able to see.”  
  
“Okay,” he nodded, feeling a good bit better.  
  
“Report any movement,” Bobby said sternly, “I don’t care if Melanie is taking her trash out. I wanna know about it.”  
  
“Got it,” they mumbled.  
  
“Let’s see what these scumbags are getting up to. And if we get an all-clear, Dean and Cas go for it. Get into the Carrigan’s and see what the hell is in that basement.”  
  
They all nodded, taking some sort of tech to help them watch the neighbors.  
  
  
************************************************  
  
  
As night fell, Dean settled onto the front porch swing, Cas manning the windows in Sam’s bedroom.  
  
“You in, Crow’s Nest?” Dean said quietly over the walkie talkie.  
  
“Affirmative, Deckhand.”  
  
“I’m hurling, FYI,” Gabe said.  
  
“You in place, Beaver?” Dean asked.  
  
“Affirmative,” came Bobby’s voice. “Found an extra walkie so Curbside quits crying’.”  
  
“No, no,” Gabe cut in. “I am not being Curbside. That’s a stupid nickname. I’m gonna be....Thor.”  
  
“I’m Thor,” Sam deadpanned.  
  
“Okay! I’ll be...Loki!”  
  
“Quit with all the chatter, Curbside,” Bobby snapped. “Where are you, Vidal Sassoon?”  
  
Gabe had to smirk at that. From where he was hunkered down behind a fallen tree just off Singer Lane, he could hear Dean laughing. “I can hear you from here, Deckhand.”  
  
“Bite me, Curbside Pick-up,” Dean laughed.  
  
Gabe sighed with a low growl. There were roughly 90 billion cooler nicknames than friggin’ Curbside. “Idiots,” he swore. “How about...The Trickster? It’s sort of like Loki, but different.”  
  
“I’m goin’ in, in case anyone remembers why we’re all really here,” came Rufus’ voice.  
  
“I see you at the front door, Hunter,” came Dean’s calm voice.  
  
“This is Beaver, PJ is out his side door, texting.”  
  
“I’m in,” Rufus said quietly.  
  
“No traffic and no movement from here,” Cas noted.  
  
Gabe could still hear Bobby lightly rustling his way through the woods.  
  
“Porch light at the Whittakers!” Gabe said the second a light popped on in front of him. Bobby’s rustling stopped and Gabe watched as Wayne came out back, talking on his phone.  
  
“Nellie’s on the porch,” Dean said.  
  
Wayne wasn’t looking anywhere in particular, much more interested in his phone call than anything going on around him.  
  
“Car,” came Cas’ voice.  
  
“That’s Don,” Dean said.  
  
“Well, I fed the cat and gave him water,” Rufus said. “Somebody needs to tell Olivia that their refrigerator smells like roadkill casserole.”  
  
Gabe chuckled.  
  
“Get the hell outta there,” Bobby said, trying not to sound as amused as he was.  
  
“Nosy Nellie is dangerously close to toppling over the porch railing,” Dean said.  
  
“Let’s see how she likes this.”  
  
Gabe grinned when a light came on in the Himura’s house.   
  
“How does she perch on the railing like that?” Dean chuckled.  
  
The light went off then immediately came back on.  
  
“Dude, she’s gonna fuckin’ eat grass any second!” Dean laughed.  
  
The light went off and a different one went on.  
  
“She’s losin’ her shit!” Dean laughed.  
  
Gabe stifled a laugh, watching Wayne look at the house now too as the light went off and another one came on in a different room.  
  
“Wayne’s going inside,” Gabe reported.  
  
“Car,” Cassie announced.  
  
“Nellie is in route to your door, Hunter!” Dean said.  
  
“Beaver, you are clear to move,” Gabe said.  
  
“Roger,” Bobby said, the sound of snapping underbrush starting immediately.  
  
“Shit! We got company!” Dean said.   
  
Gabe leaned into the road, trying to see the car that pulled over in front of his house. Seeing a familiar form get out of the car and head toward the porch, he whispered, “Is that Lurky?”  
  
“Indeed, it is,” came Dean’s suave voice. “Vidal, report to the front porch, pronto. I repeat, Lurky is on deck, report or die a slow painful death.”  
  
“-k if you’re on the stupid radio!” Sam’s voice cut in. “I’m on my way.”  
  
“Sully is visiting,” Cas interpreted for the others. “Deckhand and Vidal are out for now.”  
  
“Ed is watching TV,” Bobby reported.  
  
“Deb is on her porch,” Cas added.  
  
Gabe could hear Nellie knocking on Olivia’s door. “Nellie is knockin’ on your door, Hunter.”  
  
A light went off, another coming on in the back of the house.  
  
“Hunter?” Gabe said, hearing Nellie knock again.  
  
“It’s not my door,” Rufus said, matter of fact.  
  
“Dude,” Gabe chuckled. “She’s so freaking nosy!”  
  
“Ed is settling in to watch a movie in the living room and Madge is on the couch. They might be a while.”  
  
“Nellie is coming around the side of the house,” Cas said.  
  
“Yes, she is. She’s headed for the back door, Hunter.”  
  
Before she could come onto the back deck of the house, Rufus opened the back door, glaring at her.  
  
“I thought someone was in there!” Nellie said, high pitched and somewhere between scolding and concern.  
  
“I’m here. Now what?” Rufus said sharply, Nellie sucking back in dismay.  
  
“What are you doing in there?”  
  
“Official business,” Rufus snapped, making Gabe’s brows jump.  
  
“What sort of business?” She pried.  
  
“It’s officially none of YOUR business.”  
  
“Oh damn!” Gabe laughed. “Hunter has taken on The Nose!”  
  
“Is he bein’ a dick?” Bobby asked. “Ru -, dammit! Hunter! Quit bein’ a dick!”  
  
Gabe laughed harder, watching as Rufus shooed Nellie away.  
  
“Car,” Cas said.  
  
“What did I miss?” Dean said, “Deckhand is officially back on deck.”  
  
“This shit is gold!” Gabe laughed, hearing Nellie rant inside her house, most assuredly about Rufus. “Hunter got The Nose ALL fired up!”  
  
“Dammit! I knew I’d miss the good stuff!”  
  
“PJ either went in or left,” Bobby said.  
  
“PJ is walking toward Deb’s house,” Cas clarified.  
  
“Aaaand PJ is IN Deb’s house,” Dean added.  
  
  
And so, the night continued. Sully went home after hanging out with Sam and Fletcher for half an hour in the kitchen. Then the pair had set up the telescope on the deck. Cas and Dean were MIA for 15 minutes (which Gabe knew damn well was enough time for the pair to have a quickie). Dean had been watching the neighbors sneak around for weeks, and seemed to find the perfect time to go missing briefly. When the pair were back to their stations, Sam went in to put Fletcher to bed. Rufus went home and must have gone to sleep or switched off his walkie, because he was no longer responding. The night grew darker and the neighbors finally settled down, lights going out. And now he couldn’t get Bobby to answer.  
  
“Curbside, I think you better check on The Beav,” came Dean’s sleepy voice.  
  
“I’m on it,” Gabe grumbled, tired of sitting in the dirt anyway. He stumbled his way through the woods, his flashlight beam bouncing in every direction as he dragged his feet through the underbrush.  
  
“You need to clean up these woods, Robert,” Gabe complained, searching as he went. He could see the back of a house that had a dimly lit light in its yard. “Bobby!” He whisper/yelled.   
  
Seeing a lump that was either a large stump or a man, he worked his way closer, shining his light on the mass. The beam illuminated a dingy blue and white trucker cap and now he could hear the soft sounds of snoring.  
  
Gabe squeezed the com button on his walkie, “Man down, the Beaver is snoring like a friggin’ bear.”  
  
“Nice,” Dean said.  
  
Gabe kicked Bobby’s boot, jarring the man awake. “You’re sleepin’ on the job, Lookie Lou.”  
  
“Son of a bitch,” Bobby mumbled, sitting more upright.  
  
Gabe peered through what trees separated them from the Carrigan’s yard. “They are STILL watching TV! Is there a run of Christmas movies playing? I thought old people went to bed early!”  
  
Bobby smirked at him. “Think we better call this what it is. A bust.”  
  
Gabe sighed. He brought the walkie talkie to his mouth. “This is Curbside. We’re calling tonight a bust. The Cunninghams are still watching TV.”  
  
“Ten four,” came Dean’s gritty, sleep voice.  
  
“Sam is gonna be so disappointed.”  
  
“Yeah,” Bobby agreed. “I ain’t too happy about it either.”  
  
“Every day that goes by, we chance missing those jewels being moved, if they’re even in there.”  
  
“Every day that goes by, Fred’s in danger. That’s what Cas seems to think anyway.”  
  
Both men shared a solemn look of understanding. They made their way through the woods and parted ways on Singer Lane. The Whittakers lights had gone out hours ago, so at least he didn’t have to feel watched as he crossed the street.  
  
On the porch swing, Dean and Cas were snuggled together with a blanket around them.  
  
“So, we’re giving up?” Dean asked softly.  
  
“It’s almost four in the morning. Who knew the Carrigans would outlast us? We’ll figure something out tomorrow. Or later today, I guess.”  
  
Cas took a long, heavy sigh. “I work in less than three hours, so I’m just going to stay up all night.”  
  
“That blows,” Gabe grimaced.  
  
“I told him to call off sick, but he won’t,” Dean said, the pair standing and following him inside.  
  
“I need to be there to keep an eye on Mahoney,” Cas explained sleepily.

They all tip-toed past Fletcher on the couch, heading upstairs.  
  
As Gabe shed his clothes and crawled into bed, Sam sat up with a start. “What happened?”  
  
“Nothin. We sat there all this time and had to call it quits.”  
  
Sam sighed in disappointment, lying down and pulling Gabe into him. “You smell like the woods,” Sam said in a dreamy little voice.  
  
“You smell like Vidal Sassoon,” Gabe grinned.  
  
Both of them chuckled before dropping off to sleep.  
  
  



End file.
